


In the Land of Ever After

by Setcheti



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Cinderella (1950), Cracked Video (Fiction - Non RPF), Frozen (2013), The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assumptions, Attempted Murder, Christmas, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Death, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Family Issues, Ghosts, Growing Up, Horror, Ice Powers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, Minor Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Merida (Brave), Non-Graphic Violence, Past Violence, Ragnarok, Realization, Relationship Problems, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 171,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6798961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setcheti/pseuds/Setcheti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A childlike queen forced to flee her subjects in the middle of the night, a young bookkeeper raised to be his father's hands and eyes, and a formerly-cursed prince trying to run a still-cursed kingdom. Sometimes magic leaves a mess behind...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Quest

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-movie Disney crossover AU, based on an idea originated by Cracked Video about the aftermath of certain Disney movies - you can see the two videos [here](https://youtu.be/tGNArcgbiXY) and [here](https://youtu.be/tGRUOD1P_Nk). John Kepperson is Cracked's original character in their version of the _Frozen_ universe.
> 
> If you're unfamiliar with my writing, see up there in the tags where it says 'canon divergence'? Yeah, that's a warning. My Disney-obsessed daughter didn't have a problem with all the liberties I took, but your mileage may vary. ;)

It had been not quite two months since the kingdom of Arendelle had been released from endless winter when Princess Elsa – formerly known as the Ice Queen of Arendelle – was startled awake by someone shaking her and hissing in her ear; if the someone hadn’t ducked, they’d have been an ice statue she could observe at her leisure. John Kepperson, the Royal Bookkeeper and more recently the person helping Elsa bring her kingdom back from the effects of the endless winter she herself had caused, had known to duck, though. “Princess, you have to get up,” he insisted, the intensity of his expression even in the dim light of the lamp he carried more than making up for the quietness of his voice. “You have to get up at once, we have to…we have to go on an urgent quest.”

She sat up, frost crackling under her fingers where they gripped the edge of the heavy down coverlet. “A quest? But it’s night…”

“Urgent means there’s no time to lose and we must start off at once,” John explained. “You have to get up and get dressed _right now_ , Your Highness. This minute.” He stepped away from the bed, giving her room to get up. “Warm clothes, like your sister wears. And a cloak with a hood. It’s a secret quest, very important, and we mustn’t attract attention.”

Elsa threw back the coverlet and slid out of bed, the nightgown she’d made from ice crystals and snowflakes shimmering in the dim light, and he averted his eyes before turning away to give her privacy. For some reason that displeased her, but she wasn’t sure why so she put the thought aside for later consideration and went to her little-used wardrobe to pick out clothes to go on an urgent quest in. An urgent secret quest. Secret meant hiding, so she chose a dress of dark blue wool decorated with black braid and simple embroidery, a black cloak, and long blue gloves embroidered with vines. Up went her braid into a coil, and after a moment’s consideration she dug out a black kerchief to tie over her hair the way her sister Anna did. She carried her boots and stockings over to a little stool and sat down to put them on. “Is Anna coming with us?”

John glanced over his shoulder, saw that she was dressed, and shook his head, drawing nearer again. He was wearing the same clothes she usually saw him in under a dark brown cloak. “No, she has to stay here – she’s the one who’ll have to run the kingdom until we come back.”

“She knows about the quest?”

“She’ll know why you had to leave, yes.”

“What about Olaf?”

“He can’t come either, but he knows…even better than your sister why you have to go so quickly,” John assured her, stooping to tie up a dangling lace on one of her boots. “All right, cloak on, hood up, and follow me as closely and silently as you can. We have to sneak out, your subjects would…feel the need to stop you from leaving. I’m going to put out the lantern, and then you’ll take my hand and we’ll be on our way. I’ll explain everything once we’re safely away, I promise.”

It was a promise he had no intention of keeping – not truthfully, anyway, at least not any time soon – but Elsa had no way of knowing that. He extinguished the lamp and then took her hand and led her to the door and out into the darkness of the sleeping castle. He was wearing gloves, but his grip was sure and he led her unerringly through side passages and half-forgotten stairwells until they reached a small door which let out into a little-used garden.

The moonlight was blue on the snow, glittering prettily in places, but he gave her no time to admire it. Through the garden they plunged, hugging the shadows, and then they were going through a rusty-hinged gate and a horse was standing there under a tree, stamping one black hoof against the snowy ground as though admonishing them for making him wait. John helped her to mount and swung up in front of her, and then at a click of his tongue the horse walked them away from the castle and off toward the woods.

 

They rode all through that night, and by the time false dawn was beginning to brighten the sharp edges of the mountains they were already a long way from the castle of Arendelle. John had said little in all that time, but finally he pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted, lifting Elsa down after him. There was a rough little hut there, with a crooked rock chimney snaking up one side as though it had grown from the natural stone the hut was nestled up against. Off to one side a different stone building nearly hidden by the trees appeared to be a rough stable. “We’ll stop here so the horse can rest – and so we can too,” he said. “We’re actually past the boundaries of the kingdom now, and this is a place where couriers often stop to rest so nobody will think anything about it if they see smoke coming from the chimney.” She blinked at him, and he smiled and shook his head. “No, Princess, I know you don’t need a fire – but I do, and we’ll want something to melt snow with to water the horse. Now go on inside while I put him up, I’ll be in shortly.”

Elsa went to the door of the little hut and looked inside. It was dark, like a cave, but she called a little ice-light into her hand and then she could see. The hut’s floor was bare packed earth, and the stone hearth filled one end of the tiny space; there was a crude bench at the other end, but other than that there was no furniture or even a window. Couriers, John had said, couriers stopped here to rest. She looked around again. In spite of how crude the hut seemed, the walls were thick and the roof looked solid – the door seemed solid too, and she saw that it had iron loops so that it could be barred shut from the inside. Which John did once he’d brought in his bag and an armful of wood to burn, pushing a thick branch through the loops and giving a hard shake to test its strength. He smiled at the ice light, which Elsa was still holding in her hand. “That’s a useful thing – I’ll be able to spare the lamp oil, in case we need it later. All right, you can have the bench, Princess, and I’ll bed down by the fire once I’ve got it started.”

She nodded and retreated to the bench, sitting down to watch him make the fire. He put a little pot full of snow on the hearth once he was done. “What is that for?”

“Water.” He was spreading his cloak out on the floor. “I already gave the horse what was in the skin I brought, so this will refill the skin. You can’t give a horse icy cold water to drink after it’s had exercise,” he explained. “That’s not good for a horse, it can even kill it.”

Elsa put that new piece of information aside for later wondering about why horses would be so much different from reindeer in that respect – reindeer drank water from frozen ponds and streams when they were thirsty and it didn’t hurt them a bit. “What’s our horse’s name?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” John sat down and stretched. “It’s one of the horses that came with Prince Hans, they’ve been taking care of it in the royal stables because nobody ever came for it. So if you’d like for it to have a name, pick one and that’s what we’ll call it.”

“I’ll think of a name,” she promised. She put out the ice light and laid down on the bench, watching from beneath lowered lids as he took off his glasses, wrapped himself in his cloak and went to sleep. He looked younger when he was asleep, and without his glasses, she decided – and he also looked a lot less worried, something she hadn’t realized until now. John had been worried, very worried – possibly he’d even been afraid. That someone would come after them from Arendelle, try to stop them going on the quest? Maybe.

Elsa closed her eyes, shutting out the distraction of watching John sleep in front of the flickering fire even though she didn’t really want to – she had never watched someone sleep before, and it was making her feel warm and comfortable inside. Another thing to think about later. Still, though, she felt like she was missing something, like there was something about this urgent quest that she really ought to know. John had promised that he’d explain later…but when would it be later? Elsa fell asleep wondering.

 

That afternoon when John woke up, there were many things to do before they could be on their way again and he was happy to explain the hows and whys of all of them, so Elsa forgot to ask him when later would be. Once they were back on the road she did remember to ask how he’d known where the hut was and that couriers used it. Had John been a courier? That question made him laugh. “No, not hardly. I’m a bookkeeper, I do accounts – lots of math in books that keeps the kingdom running,” he explained good-naturedly. “But when my father…got older, and he couldn’t do it anymore, I’d ride out with the courier in his place to make sure whatever important or valuable thing we were sending actually made it to the person who was supposed to get it. I usually spent my nights in these little huts sleeping on top of whatever we were delivering, actually, even though we’d barred the door. There are thieves who watch the courier routes, but the easiest way to get what’s being carried is to just bribe the courier who has it so they’ll hand it over.”

“Bribe…”

“Giving someone money to do something for you which they shouldn’t be doing in the first place.”

“Hmm.” She thought about that. “So you were afraid the courier would be bribed and take the valuable thing while you were asleep? Were the couriers bad?”

He chuckled. “No, but most of them are young and poor, and a clever thief can talk someone who’s inexperienced or just plain greedy into doing things they shouldn’t. That’s why my father or I went with them, you see – because thieves can be tricky and we knew how not to get tricked.”

“Your father taught you?”

“He did. It was part of his trade.” He answered the question before she could ask. “A trade is the set of skills that go with your job, what you do to support yourself and your family.”

Elsa frowned at the trees beside the road; one of them grew an icicle, so she stopped. “Do I have a trade?”

John was silent for a moment. “Well, no. You’re supposed to, but no one taught you.”

“Why not?”

He patted her arm where it was curled around his waist. “I don’t know, Princess. But if we can find your parents…you can be sure I’m going to ask them.”

She sat up a little straighter. It was later! “We’re looking for my parents? Aren’t they dead?”

“Nobody knows what they are,” was his reply. “They just went away one day on a trip and never came back; the ship they’d been on disappeared and was presumed lost at sea, and after a certain amount of time had passed the councilors declared them dead.”

“Why?”

“Because a king who isn’t there can’t run a kingdom, but if the king is coming back no one else can run it until he does. Things have to be done to keep a kingdom running,” John explained patiently. “Taxes have to be assessed, trade agreements have to be negotiated or re-negotiated, laws have to be passed, problems have to be solved. You can get away with not doing some of those things for a while – and Arendelle always had, because the king was often away – but past a certain point you really do have to start doing everything officially for the good of your people.” He patted her arm again. “That was why they tried to rush your coronation, even though you didn’t know how to run a kingdom and they knew it. And also why they were so willing to allow Prince Hans to step in and run things afterward.”

“But Hans…”

“Yes, they chose poorly,” he confirmed. “He was a terrible person, from what I understand, and he’d have made a terrible king. They didn’t know that when he…expressed his interest in doing it, though. He was a very good liar.”

Elsa rested her cheek against his shoulder, the wool of his cloak rough against her skin; beside the road, several trees turned white with frost. “He was a very _bad_ liar.”

“I meant he was good at doing it,” John clarified. “A person can be good at doing something even if the thing they’re doing is bad.”

She pouted. “That’s confusing.”

“Some things are, Princess. The thing to do if you’re confused by something is to ask for clarification – ask someone to explain it in a simpler way.”

“Like I ask you?”

He nodded his head. “Yes, like you ask me.”


	2. The Inn

They spent that night in another courier hut and rode out just after dawn the next morning, but when the sun started to set again John stayed on the road. “We’re going to an inn tonight,” he announced, after gently shaking Elsa awake where she’d been sleeping with her head on his shoulder. “We need more food, and so does the horse. Now, inns can be dangerous places…”

She sniffed. All the riding was starting to make her cranky. “I can protect myself.”

He patted her arm. “I know. But you aren’t to do it while we’re at the inn unless there is _no other choice_ , do you understand? We can’t let anyone know who you are, it isn’t safe. So if anything does happen, you need to pretend that you can’t protect yourself, all right? Just pretend, and let me handle it.”

“What if you can’t?”

He sucked in a breath so sharp it actually startled her, but then he blew it out again and shook his head. “I’m…I’ll try my best, Your Highness. If I can’t and you have to do something, though…after that we’re just going to have to get away as fast as we can, all right?”

She put her other arm around his waist and squeezed; she knew without seeing his face that he was worrying again. “I’m sorry, I can pretend. I don’t want to get us into trouble.”

He sighed. “I know you don’t – but if we do, it isn’t your fault. I want you to remember that, Princess. The way people react when they see you use your powers…that’s not because you’re doing something _wrong_ , it’s because you’re doing something new to them, and for some people new is scary.”

She burrowed into his shoulder again. “It was scary for me too, at first.”

His chest hitched at that but he didn’t say anything, he just squeezed her arm and let his hand rest there, warm and comforting, until she was feeling better.

 

The inn was a wondrous thing to Elsa. There were so many sights and smells and people, and everything was all so new! Still, she kept her hood up and her head down while they left their horse in the stable and she stayed close to John when they went into the inn itself. She understood now why he’d said the inn was dangerous; she could tell that some of the men who had noticed them coming in were bad, from the way they stared at her and sneered at John. That made her frown. These men were all big, like Kristoff, much bigger and stronger-looking than John. Who was _small_ , Elsa realized for the first time, barely any taller than she was.

John whisked her up to the room he’d gotten for them as quickly as he could, breathing a sigh of relief once they were safely on the other side of the heavy oak door with its sturdy iron bolt. This was a fairly reputable inn for travelers, but even before the innkeeper had warned him he’d known that some of the travelers who were in at the moment could possibly be trouble.

Trouble he might not be able to handle. His princess had called that one right when they’d been talking about the inn...

Arms went around his waist from behind, startling him. “You’re worrying again,” Elsa said. He looked over his shoulder and saw the frown. “I saw them, I knew they were bad because of the way they watched us. And they’re bigger than you are.”

“That they are.” He extricated himself from the hug, gently. “I’m…not a big man, Elsa.” He’d warned her that he couldn’t call her Princess or Your Highness while they were at the inn, for fear someone might overhear them. “Those men probably think we have money, because of the clothes we’re wearing, and they’d like to take it for themselves. And they know you’re a woman, a pretty one, so they’d like to take you for themselves too.”

“Why?”

Elsa’s big blue eyes were completely clueless – completely innocent. She literally had no idea. John thought that over for a moment, the idea of trying to make her understand twisting painfully in his stomach, then shook his head. “No, I can’t…I just can’t explain that concept to you, Elsa. You’ll just have to trust me that it’s bad, very bad, but it’s a thing I don’t think you’re ready to understand yet.” And one John was certainly not ready to explain to her yet, either. “Now, those men will be drinking far into the night, and then they’ll go to bed late to sleep it off. We’ll leave early in the morning – the innkeeper said he’d thump on the wall to wake us, since we’re right next to the rooms he lives in – and that way we’ll be on our way before those men even wake up and we won’t have to deal with them at all. All right? We’re plenty safe in the room, our horse…”

“Sven.”

“…Sven is safe in the stable, so all we have to do is get a good night’s sleep and then be on our way in the morning. And someone is going to bring us up some supper; even the people who run the inn know you shouldn’t be downstairs tonight.”

She cocked her head at him, and then smiled and gave him another hug, which startled him all over again. “You’re so good at helping me.”

If she’d been looking at his face, the expression that crossed it might have alarmed her. It was worried and sad…and even somewhat frightened. “I hope I so, Elsa, I hope so.”

 

They passed the night in their room without incident, and were up at dawn the next morning. The inn was quiet and clean now, with all the guests still asleep, and they had hot porridge and honey with the innkeeper before slipping out to the stables to get Sven.

Which would have been just fine, if one of the men from the night before hadn’t been sleeping in the stables too. John spun around and pushed Elsa behind him when he heard the rough chuckle, facing the huge, unkempt man who was leering at them – possibly at both of them, John realized, feeling sick at the thought. He stood as tall as he could, did his best to look and sound commanding. “We’re going now. Move.”

The man chuckled again, rubbing his dirty beard. “I thinks I’d like ya ta stay, is what I thinks.” He took a step forward…and then stopped, because a knife with a fine long blade had appeared in John’s hand. “Hey now, none o’ that…”

“If you’re about to say you were just being friendly, save it,” John ordered. “Now get back to your wallow and finish sleeping it off, or I will send you back there to bleed to death on the straw. Back, I said!”

The man backed up a step, eyes fixed on the knife. John moved Elsa and the horse – Sven, he reminded himself, who had ever heard of a horse named Sven? – out of the stall and started drawing them along behind him toward the stable door. The man backed up another few steps, but his eyes were narrowing. He smirked suddenly and started forward…and that was when the stableboy hit him over the head with an ox-collar and he dropped into the straw completely senseless.

John was so relieved he almost fainted. He fumbled at his belt, pulling out one of his few remaining coins and tossing it to the boy. “Thank you,” he called over quietly, just in case there were any more ruffians sleeping in the stalls with their horses. “Appreciate the help – be careful when that ruffian wakes up, he’ll foul the straw for sure.”

“Eh, I’ll drag him into the stableyard,” the boy said, grinning. “He don’t know I hit him noways. You an’ your missus have a safe trip, m’lord.”

John smiled. “And you have a good day, my boy – and a better night! I’ll tell all I meet that this inn is one to stay at.”

He led the horse out, helped Elsa mount and then mounted in front of her and they were off again. She waited until they’d gotten well away down the road before asking any questions, but John beat her to it. He’d been chuckling to himself, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I didn’t correct him because we’re traveling in secret, Princess – he thought I was a merchant, probably, traveling with his lady wife, and that’s what he’ll say if anyone asks.”

“What about the man he hit?”

“The man he hit is going to wake up in the stableyard with a headache – which he would have done anyway, because drinking all night does that to you. He might remember that I had a knife, he’ll probably tell his fellow ruffians that I was vicious and beat him and then they’ll beat him themselves for being bested by a man half his size. We’ll have enough head start by then that they won’t catch up to us, though, so whatever he tells them won’t matter.” He jumped then, because her hands were feeling over his belt and she’d tickled him. “What…”

“I wanted to see the knife. I didn’t know you had one.”

John snorted. “I don’t have one, actually. That’s a letter-opener I had on my desk. And I’ll show it to you the next time we rest the hor…Sven, all right? But you need to stop feeling around for it, that tickles.”

“It does?” Elsa vaguely remembered tickling – when she’d been very small, before her powers had come out, she remembered her father tickling her and her sister. And Anna had liked to sneak up behind her to tickle. She hadn’t realized you could tickle an adult, though, or tickle by accident. Just to be sure, she tried it and John jumped again and squeaked, which made Sven snort and toss his head. She muffled her laugh in John’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to see if it worked.”

“It works, yes.” He didn’t sound unhappy about it; in fact, he sounded like he was smiling. “Don’t do it again, though, Sven doesn’t like it when you make me jump like that.”

“I won’t do it again while we’re riding,” she promised, and internally John sighed. He was happy that she was relaxed and playing, but at the same time it was only highlighting the fact that she had no clue what was going on or how much danger they could actually be in. He was all too aware of it, though, and of how unprepared they both actually were for a trip like this.

After all, the only reason he even had the letter opener with him was because he’d snatched it off his desk in desperation as he’d gone running to save her from her own people, fearing he would run into some of them in the corridors and be forced to defend himself – or her. Because those same people had killed her little snowman creature that very night by throwing it into a fire in the courtyard. A fire built far too large to just melt one little snowman.

 

They ‘camped’ behind an outcropping of rocks that night, well off the road and with no fire except John’s little lamp; Sven was staked out close beside them. They had left the snow behind, having come down out of the mountains, so the camping wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as it might have been. There was also a noisy little stream nearby, so as soon as John had gone to sleep Elsa changed into a shift made of snowflakes and took her travel-soiled clothing down to clean it as best she could in the swiftly-running water. She washed her hair while she was at it, then made a comb of ice to get the tangles out with before braiding it back up. The wet clothing she froze, then shook the now-frozen water out of the heavy fabric, leaving it clean and mostly dry. She didn’t really want to put the clothes back on again, preferring to sleep in something lighter, but she knew John would be upset if she wasn’t wearing anything but snowflakes when he woke up so she reluctantly put the clothes back on before going back to their little camp and settling down on the hard ground to sleep. If she dreamed of the fluffy snow bedroom in her pretty ice castle that night, no one could have blamed her.

John, the next morning, was somewhat startled to find his princess looking every bit as fresh as she had the night they’d left Arendelle. He was even more startled when Elsa insisted on cleaning his clothes as well. “You said we were going to have to go into a town or a village soon so you could make more money for us to travel with,” she reminded him. “We can’t go looking like we’ve been riding around on a secret quest for days, can we? People will notice!”

That made him laugh, but he agreed with her that yes, people would notice – and likely wouldn’t want to hire him, which would be a bad thing because they needed more money to continue their quest. He led Sven down to the stream, placating him with a handful of oats from the little bag he’d filled at the inn’s stable, then threw his cloak over the horse and undressed behind it, tossing the clothes over to Elsa and then gingerly washing himself in the cold stream while she cleaned them. Finally re-dressed, although shivering quite a bit in the lukewarm light of the early morning sun, he did declare he felt much better and thanked her profusely. “We won’t be telling anyone about this, though,” he mock scolded as they led Sven back to the road. “Princesses aren’t supposed to do laundry, especially not when it belongs to one of their subjects.”

That reminded her of something. “Why did you come with me on this quest, John? Weren’t you needed at the castle, to do the accounts? Someone else…”

“There wasn’t anyone else,” he said quickly, stopping and turning to face her. He was frowning, and looking worried again. “Princess…I was the only one who could come. And I wanted to, please do not ever doubt that. Even had there been someone else available, I couldn’t have trusted them with this.” He offered her his hand, then boosted her up onto the horse and resumed leading it back to the road. “Now, we’re heading for a village at the foot of a mountain, and near the top of that mountain is a castle which used to be enchanted. Which is why we’re going there.”

“Because it used to be enchanted?”

“Yes, because that means the village is used to magic, so it’s at least somewhat safe.” He couldn’t help but smirk. “And I’ve heard a rumor that told me my services might be appreciated; apparently letting a child prince grow up as a rampaging monster trapped in an enchanted castle doesn’t give him the greatest grasp of how to manage a kingdom. We’ll see.”

Elsa thought about that all the way there. She had already learned so much from John on this quest. And now to find out that there were other people like her! She wondered what sort of magic the prince had…


	3. A Job

The village, when they finally reached it the following day, was quite unlike Arendelle, all cheerful little cottages and neat but worn storied buildings that held shops selling everything from dresses to cakes. It was set along a road that twisted up the side of the mountain whose slopes it resided on, and up that road they went without stopping, although John did nod to several people who stopped what they were doing to stare at them. It was a bit of a ride to reach the top of the mountain, but once they did they found a broad yard before them which circled a pretty stone fountain. The castle was quite small compared to Elsa’s own – either of them – but it was pretty as well and there were vines with heart-shaped green leaves crawling up over the stones and wrapping themselves around shuttered windows. The castle doors were huge wooden affairs dominating the top of a wide marble staircase, though, severely out of proportion to the structure itself, all thick beams and heavy iron bands. John left their horse at a conveniently placed post and helped Elsa dismount, then led her straight to the doors and used the iron knocker as politely as an iron knocker could be used. They waited a few moments, and then there were some creaking and banging noises and finally a plump, nervous-looking middle-aged man got the door pulled back just enough to peer out at them. “Yes, may I help you?”

John smiled and bowed. “I’m here to offer my services to your prince; I heard he was in need of a capable bookkeeper…”

“Oh by all the gods YES!” came a voice from somewhere inside. “Cogsworth…”

“I shall guide them to your study, Your Highness,” the plump man – named Cogsworth, apparently – called back. He smiled an even more nervous apology. “Prince Adam will see you, of course. Do come in…”

“John Kepperson, and the Lady Elsa.” John ended up shoving on the door himself to make the crack wide enough for himself and Elsa to slip through, and shoving some more from the other side to help the plump little man close it. He then assisted Elsa off with her cloak and gave that and his own cloak to Cogsworth, who in turn handed the items off to a suddenly appearing footman and led the two visitors down a hallway to a much smaller and more manageable door which opened into a smallish room which held a fireplace, several large bookshelves, and a sturdy mahogany desk piled high with papers and books. “Your Highness, John Kepperson and the Lady Elsa to see you.”

Prince Adam was standing on the crimson rug in front of the fireplace, and he nodded regally to accept the introduction. He was taller than John, Elsa noticed, and had pretty blue eyes and golden hair that was a much warmer shade than her own. He was quite handsome, in fact, a good deal more handsome than Hans had been, and she thought that her sister would likely be very much taken with him if she were there. “Tea, please, Cogsworth,” the prince requested in a pleasant tenor, and then once the man was gone he waved John and Elsa to seat themselves and took his own seat behind the desk with a sigh. “He’s fussy and it’s silly, but if I don’t go along with it he gets huffy instead. Now, I don’t know how you heard I needed help, but your timing couldn’t have been better – I’m starting to fear this mess is going to be the end of me. I don’t understand half of what I’m doing.”

“If I understand correctly, Your Highness, you haven’t been trained to do this sort of work,” John advanced politely. “It’s not the sort of thing a person can just ‘pick up’ by doing it, not on this scale. I can start this very day, if you like.”

“I’d more than like,” the prince agreed fervently. “I don’t suppose you have references?”

“I do, but only the one you can contact at present,” John told him. “Your Highness, please allow me to re-introduce Her Highness Princess Elsa of Arendelle – my former employer. For obvious reasons, I didn’t want to give her full title at the door.”

The prince’s eyes had widened. “No, of course not – perfectly understandable. So the two of you are…”

“On a quest,” Elsa told him. “We’re trying to find my parents, but John says we need to earn money to continue our travels.”

The prince looked confused for a moment…and then John gave him a meaningful look and realization dawned. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, yes, of course. Travel can be quite expensive, and this sort of quest…can take a very long time before you’re able to return home?” John nodded at that; the prince nodded back. “As you are here to recommend Mr. Kepperson, then, my lady, I feel confident in hiring him on the spot. And while he is saving my people from my lack of knowledge, you…”

“The princess is able to reimburse you for her keep while we are here, Your Highness” John interrupted. “I’m sure that after such a mild winter your ice houses are looking rather bare?”

“They are, but…” The prince’s eyes widened again when John nodded to Elsa and she produced a small icicle for him. “Oh my, you can really do that.”

Elsa nodded happily. “I can make ice for you. Do you want it in blocks or sculptures or…”

“Blocks,” John cut her off quickly. “Ice houses are designed to hold stacks of blocks, Princess. But Prince Adam might not object if you wanted to make him a small ice statue or two – just ask first so he can tell you where it should go and how big it should be.”

“Of course.” She blushed, blinking at Adam with guileless blue eyes. “I promise, I won’t make anything unless you ask me to.”

“I shall endeavor to think of something suitable,” Adam promised her in return. “And in the meantime the castle has a very large library…” John was shaking his head. “No?”

“Your pardon for being blunt, Your Highness, but Princess Elsa has had a similar lack of upbringing to your own.”

Elsa nodded gravely. “I’ve spent most of my life locked in my bedroom.”

“From the time she was about six until last year,” John put in.

To their surprise, Prince Adam smiled widely. “In that case, we can definitely help each other,” he declared, and held up a hand for silence. “OH NO,” he said loudly. “SOMEONE WHO CAN BARELY READ…”

A different door in the wall flew open and a pretty dark-haired woman rushed in. “What? Who? It’s mandatory, I made it a law! Where…”

The prince smiled at her. “Belle, darling, I’d like to introduce you to our new bookkeeper, John Kepperson…and his companion Princess Elsa, who apparently lacks even more education than I did. As they’re going to be staying here at the castle while Mr. Kepperson gets things running smoothly for us, I thought you…”

“Oh yes, of course.” Belle cocked her head, giving Elsa a speculative look. “Wait, Princess Elsa from _Arendelle_?”

Elsa nodded, eyes wide. She wasn’t sure what to think of this woman who moved and spoke so quickly, the way Anna did, but who seemed much more…intense. “Yes, John and I are on a quest to find my parents.”

“This is a short but necessary stop along the way,” John added.

Belle gave her husband a questioning look, which he answered with a nod, and she immediately went into bustling mode again. “Well, in that case Princess Elsa and I will have to make the most of the time we have! Come along, my dear, and I’ll show you the library. Cogsworth will let us know when your rooms are ready.”

Elsa stood up, but gave John a worried look; he smiled. “Princess, it’s fine. You can go with Lady Belle while the prince and I discuss the books – that way you won’t have to sit here and be bored. And you’ll like the library. I’m sure there are books about science there.”

Elsa lit up. “Science? I just found out about science last month!” she told Belle, who managed not to be completely horrified, but just barely. “There are _books_ about science, more than one?”

Belle recovered herself. “Oh, yes! The science books are the big ones, they have ever so much in them!” She held out her hand; Elsa cautiously took it and was almost immediately being pulled out of the room. “You are going to love the library, it has books on everything imaginable. Although sadly they don’t shelve themselves anymore, or come when I call them …”

Once they were well out of the room, Adam leaned over the desk and raised an eyebrow. “So, hostile takeover or torches and pitchforks?”

John sighed. “Torches – I had to whisk her out of the palace in the middle of the night, an ‘urgent quest to find her parents’ was the only plausible thing I could come up with. As I’m sure you could tell, she’s rather more of an innocent than you might expect a young woman her age to be; I don’t know how I’m going to tell her what the real reason was behind our sudden departure from the castle that night. Our kingdom has a…problem with magic,” he explained. “Elsa doesn’t know – her parents never explained it to her or her sister, and I hadn’t been able to make her understand before the situation came to a head.”

“Didn’t I hear that her parents…”

“Took off on a trip one day and never came back? Yes, quite. And we may actually end up on a quest to find out what happened to them, because her darling subjects have been passing around rumors that she killed them – rumors her scatterbrained idiot of a sister was halfway to believing when we left, if the rumors _I_ heard were correct. If they’re alive and we can find them, though, bringing them back to Arendelle would solve a lot of problems.”

“If I can help you discover anything about that, I will,” Adam told him. It was his turn to sigh. “I’d join your quest, if I could. My parents disappeared the same way, just went off on a trip one day when I was ten and never came back – and then, of course, after the fairy cursed me the entire castle was sealed for ten years and none of us could leave the grounds. But without knowing if my father is still alive or not, the law says I can’t name myself king – a law someone passed way back when to keep ambitious sons from burying the bodies and taking the throne, I suppose.”

“No doubt. I hear there’s a scandal of that sort going in one of the eastern kingdoms, claimants to the throne just keep dropping dead while the current queen sails about ruling as regent for her infant son.”

Adam shivered. “Ugh, I’ve heard about that woman. I hope she realizes the boy will eventually grow up enough to be persuaded she’s a threat and then it’s off to the dungeon for her. Hopefully they have rats.”

John had to smile. “Probably. So, literacy is the law here?”

“Making it one kept her busy for a while.” There was a knock at the door, and a servant swept in with tea. Adam waited to speak again until the servant had left. “Belle is…well, she’s very quick, as you saw, and easily bored. In a way it was better when the castle was enchanted, because the castle itself kept her entertained every minute of the day. But once the curse was broken…well, life as lady wife to a prince who can’t become king hasn’t been nearly so exciting as living in an enchanted castle with transformed magical servants and a rampaging Beast in charge, let’s put it that way. I’ll admit to being more than glad you stopped here, not just because I desperately need your skills but also because having Princess Elsa as a project will hopefully keep Belle from being so frustrated by…other things.”

John was giving him a very penetrating look, and then his eyes widened. “Oh no, not…”

“Unfortunately, yes. I married her and then realized too late that the one she’d been in love with was the furry me. And now she’s ‘bored’ again – on all fronts.” Adam took a very glum sip of his tea. “It’s not like I’d have…I mean, my beast form was _huge_ , it had _claws_ …I just don’t understand why she seems to wish I’d stayed that way. I’m certainly glad I didn’t.”

“I’m sure your staff is as well,” John agreed. “Perhaps it’s…just a passing thing, Your Highness. Maybe once we’ve got things in order the two of you could take a short trip, do something to reconnect. I’ll work on it.” John was privately starting to wonder if perhaps handing impressionable Elsa over to bestiality-minded Belle was a good idea after all, but he put that thought aside. Elsa had less than no clue about sex, he’d figured that out early on – the very enticing ice dresses she liked to wear were more about her wanting to feel unconfined and not be hot than anything else. And if Lady Belle tried to explain her furry obsession to Elsa, his princess would probably equate it with wanting an animal as a pet and start telling stories about her sister’s husband’s obnoxious reindeer. Which was also named Sven, come to think of it…

 

That night, Adam was somewhat surprised when his wife slipped into his bedchamber and then into bed with him. He knew better than to assume that meant she wanted…well, what he would have liked to have had right then, because he’d assumed that in the past and been proven wrong, but she did cuddle up to him and he was prepared to take what he could get. “Are you sure he didn’t kidnap her?” she whispered.

Yes, he’d been right not to assume. “Yes,” he said. “He got her out just before her darling subjects were going to come drag her from her bed to kill her. Apparently magic is something they don’t very much like in Arendelle. She has no idea.”

Belle laid her head on his shoulder. “She has no idea about most things, Adam – she’s like a child in a woman’s body. After she came back from almost turning the whole country into a frozen wasteland, he was the one they sent to ask her questions about what had gone on and tell her what was happening to the kingdom because of it. Probably because someone had decided he was expendable. He’s not afraid of her, though. Do you think he has magic?”

“No.” Adam shifted so he could rest his cheek on her hair. “I think he must have realized early on that he was dealing with a child’s level of understanding rather than an adult’s and changed his approach to her to suit. He’s very protective of her in that respect – he says he doesn’t know how he’s going to tell her why they really had to leave so suddenly. He wasn’t lying about the quest, though, just the timing and the urgency of it; there are rumors being spread that she killed her parents, he wants to prove the rumors false by finding out what really happened to them.”

He could feel her frown against his shoulder, the little puff of warm breath against his skin as she huffed. “He’s barely more knowledgeable about the outside world than she is, Adam. She said he defended her at an inn they stopped at with what she thought was a knife but he told her afterward was actually a letter opener from his desk. And they brought nothing with them except his bag and the clothes on their backs. He must have been in a blind panic the night they escaped.”

“Whatever her subjects were up to must have been worthy of one,” Adam countered. “John seems level-headed enough, though –– I’m given to understand bookkeepers usually are – so I think the blame for that should most likely fall on the subjects rather than him.” He smiled. “I shall be hard-pressed not to laugh if he takes to keeping the letter opener on his desk here, though.”

“Does he have a sense of humor?”

“Yes, he seems to. Oh, and the princess is going to be filling the ice houses for us, and she’d quite like to create some ice statues as well – but she promised she wouldn’t unless given permission.”

“She did make a tiny one for me when I asked,” Belle said. She snuggled in even closer with a sigh. “You’re warm. I think I’ll sleep here tonight.”

Adam smiled. “I’d like that.”


	4. The Tax Problem

John and Elsa very quickly settled in at the former Castle of the Beast, and they were both kept quite busy. Lady Belle had latched on to her new ‘project’ with a will – the way she did any project, apparently – and Elsa was almost always with her in either the library or the gardens. In new climate-appropriate dresses, which kept her from fretting quite so much about being hot; the castle’s staff had actually taken care of that problem without being asked, because they were so delighted to not have to ration the ice anymore. And the castle’s cook, one Mrs. Potts who John was given to understand was a widow, was very mothering toward his childlike princess, which pleased John a great deal.

The state of the castle’s books, however, did not. ‘A mess’ didn’t begin to describe them; they were a disaster. John finally gave up on trying to figure out how much gold the royal treasury actually held from the numbers and instead just took a lamp and a stack of paper into the treasury and counted it all himself. Which took him a full week, but by the end of it he knew exactly how much of everything was there and had come to the realization that the kingdom was much better off than might have been expected. In fact, it looked to him like it had once been a seriously prosperous kingdom, and that possibly there had been more than a little trade going on as well. There wasn’t any now, of course, not after ten years of being cursed right off the map – literally, as there was no mention of the kingdom’s name anywhere John had looked, and only blank spots where the name should have been on maps.

Blank spots that gave him a headache if he looked at them for too long, no less, and which couldn’t be written in to add a new name. The prince, Lady Belle and even Cogsworth, the steward, had confirmed that they’d all encountered the same problem. So it was a mystery, something John didn’t much like, but there also wasn’t anything he could do about it so he put that problem aside for later consideration. The books came first.

He made a new ledger, setting it up in the system he was accustomed to using, and filling it in starting from the last time they’d received the tax. Which almost immediately revealed another problem, although he was certain this was one he could solve by himself. A thorough check within the castle led him to the conclusion that the problem hadn’t originated there, which meant he needed to go investigate down in the village and surrounding countryside. Not that he minded: Mrs. Potts had been fussing at him about not getting out enough – she said the week spent counting in the treasury had made him ‘peaked’ – so going out to solve the problem would take care of that issue as well.

John, in truth, really had less experience with ‘mothering’ than his princess did – he’d never had it before, his own mother having died when he was little more than a baby, and he wasn’t sure what exactly to make of it now. Still, the woman kept scolding him, so going down into the countryside for an afternoon should make her stop. He let one of the servants know he was going in case anyone came looking for him, then got Sven from the stables and set off down to the valley to visit the farm of one Master Beauchard.

It was a lovely day for a ride, so John took his time. The valley below the little village was deep and dotted with picturesque farms – Adam had a very lovely little kingdom, although John wasn’t sure he knew it. “I’ll have to get him out here,” he told Sven. “It might do both he and his people some good if he was seen more often.”

Sven had no opinion on that save for a wide swish of his tail, which John took as either agreement or flies.

The farm he was looking for was quite easily found, and he reined in at the gate and dismounted, waving to a man that he saw near the house. The man approached him with a quick stride that meant business, and John swallowed when he saw the blunderbuss. Hopefully he wasn’t about to get shot for trespassing. Still, he had a job to do, so he drew himself up and tried to look unbothered by either the suspicious look or the gun. “Good day to you, sir!” he called out once the man was close enough. “I’m looking for Master Beauchard, the owner of this farm.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Who’s looking for him?”

John bowed. “John Kepperson, the Royal Bookkeeper. I’ve come about a discrepancy I found in the tax…”

The gun was immediately leveled at him, and he jumped. “It’s paid,” the man spat. “I’ll not give you a single gold piece more, either. Now get you back to the castle and don’t come back!”

John held his ground. “Master Beauchard, I came here to find out why you’re paying so _much_ tax. It’s a truly ridiculous amount, and what I saw of your farm on the map, and riding in…I mean, we don’t assign extra tax just because it’s prosperous, and even though it’s a fairly large parcel of land that still doesn’t account for the amount you paid.” He put on his professional face, the one his father had used to face down councilors who didn’t want to listen. “Sir, I’m not leaving until I have an explanation. If it was graft…well, whomever you were paying it to must not be around anymore, because no one currently at the castle knows anything about it – and I did check, I questioned them all very closely and so did the prince.”

The gun’s fluted barrel dropped just a little. “He didn’t have a problem taking it.”

“Of course he didn’t, he had no idea how the tax worked—he just expected you knew how much was owed and wrote it down. Once I pointed it out to him, he was quite upset.” The farmer looked suspicious of that, and John rolled his eyes. “Sir, how in the world would he have learned it? My father taught me my trade, as your father probably taught you yours. Prince Adam’s father disappeared when he was a boy of ten, and then he spent the next decade of his life trapped in the body of a mostly illiterate monster. When, exactly, was he supposed to have learned the skills needed to run a kingdom?”

“Trapped?”

The gun was pointing at the ground now, and John breathed an internal sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to be limping home with a bullet in him this day; the unpleasantness of that experience for himself aside, he thought his princess’s reaction to it would probably be much more unpleasant for the entire valley. “He’d been taught not to let strangers in the door, like any child,” he told the farmer, somewhat confidingly, “and then this fairy came along and cursed him for it? She had to have been a bad fairy, a good one wouldn’t have done that – a good one would have asked to speak to whomever was in charge of the boy and made her request of him. If she’d asked Mr. Cogsworth, he’d have let her in at once…but for some reason the servants had all been told that the boy was the only one allowed to answer the door, even though he was barely able to budge it by himself.” He shrugged. “In all honesty, I suspect that the curse was more about the kingdom than it was about the boy. I still haven’t been able to discover why that would be, though. It’s a lovely little kingdom, but I haven’t yet seen anything here which would account for such an elaborate plan being enacted.”

The farmer thought on that for a moment, nodding. “Now that you mention it…yes, I hadn’t thought of it that way before. I’ve a boy that age, and he’d not have let a stranger in either if I wasn’t about. So far as a reason, though…” He switched the gun to the other side, held out his hand. “I apologize for the rude reception, Mr. Kepperson. Do come into the house, we’ll have a cup of tea and I’ll explain.” He leaned in a little. “I don’t want to discuss the tax issue out here, one of the neighbors might hear and be embarrassed.”

John took the offered hand without hesitation, giving the man an understanding smile. “I had wondered if it was something like that. A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you.”

 

The Beauchard farmhouse was clean and comfortable, and the farmer’s wife was plump and bustling and seemed kind. She was all of a flutter that someone from the castle was there, but once she had brought out tea and cake she disappeared back into the kitchen – to listen at the door, John was sure of it, but he didn’t mind. In this case, any gossip she might spread would only help Prince Adam. “So,” he began. “How much of the valley do you currently own, Master Beauchard?”

The farmer snorted. “Far too much – and a good deal of the village, too. My father did it,” he explained. “After the curse fell, things started to go very badly for the village, and by extension for all of us here in the valley. My father had the means, so he helped where he could…and ended up owning nearly all of it. They all pay rent,” he said. “But since we own it, now we have to pay the tax. It comes not quite even, and it’s getting worse as time goes on; my father had set the rents low, and the tax rises even though they don’t.”

“I can see why you’d not want to raise the rents,” John agreed. He took a sip of tea and thought a moment. “If you’ve a list you could give me – or I can write it down if you don’t – I’ll look it over and see if there’s anything we can do to help sort things out,” he finally said. “It’s an unfair situation all the way around at this point, to my way of thinking, so if there’s a way to remedy that I’ll find it for you.”

The farmer nodded, looking relieved. “I’ve a list, we keep it very carefully…” His wife came bustling out of the kitchen with it and put it on the table, and he made a face. “Thank you, Maribelle,” he said. “I’ll build a thicker kitchen door, shall I?”

She blushed, and John chuckled. “I did quite expect everyone who could to be listening in,” he assured her. “I know there’s a lot of curiosity about what goes on at the castle. I was just thinking on my ride out here that I need to get the prince to come out more often so his people can get used to seeing him. He’s quite a nice man, but as I was telling your husband he’s not had opportunity to learn this ruling business and he’s still somewhat unsure of himself.”

The woman sniffed. “His lady wife certainly isn’t afflicted by that malady.”

John laughed. “No, Lady Belle certainly isn’t. She’s got to be one of the quickest people I’ve ever met, always bustling around after something to do. And she’s helped Prince Adam remedy a great many of the gaps in his education…but there are some things one just can’t learn from a book.” She had frowned when he’d said ‘Lady Belle’, though, and he made an educated guess as to the cause. “Prince Adam can’t make her a princess for the same reason he can’t name himself king, the current laws of succession don’t allow him to. It’s an issue we’ll have to address, but right now the welfare of the kingdom takes precedence – even Lady Belle says so.”

He knew he’d gotten it right when her pleasant face relaxed and her smile came back. “Some of us had been wondering; thank you, Mr. Kepperson. Would you like more cake?”

“It’s wonderful, but no, thank you. I’ll have to be getting back soon, there’s still quite a lot of work to be done to get things back on track.”

“It’ll be a mercy if you can do that,” she told him, and then swept back into the kitchen.

Her husband started to say something once he was sure she had left the door, but John waved it away before he could. “It’s fine, Master Beauchard, it’s fine. The cook at the castle talks to all of us that way – the prince included. Plain speech only angers people who think too much of themselves to begin with.”

The farmer nodded. “So I say myself, Mr. Kepperson. Which also goes to that other matter, so I’ll make myself free to tell you what I think. You’re not from here, so you wouldn’t know what it was like before the curse. But the old king, our prince’s father, was…odd. He was always something of a gadabout young man, never wanting to stay home and attend to things like a proper ruler even after his father died, and then he married a princess from some northern kingdom – went out and got her and brought her back here to marry him, no less. That kept him home more often for a few years, but then after she gave birth to the prince he started going off again on a regular basis and taking her with him. They didn’t take the baby, though, and I remember my mother and the other women going on about that like it was the most unnatural thing a woman could do, queen or no queen. Still, the kingdom was prosperous enough, and people had gotten used to having a ruler who didn’t interfere with them overmuch, so the complaining wasn’t very loud or very long.”

He took a long drink of his tea. “Then, though, things started to get stranger. The king would come back, but the queen wouldn’t, and all the servants knew was that he’d said she was visiting her people because there were important things she had to attend to there. At first everyone thought maybe she’d decided she didn’t like it here, or that he was unhappy with her because he wanted another heir and she couldn’t give him one, but every rumor coming out of the castle said it wasn’t so and that the two of them played like children when she was home and couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. And then they left for the last time right before the prince’s eleventh birthday, and that was the last anyone in this kingdom ever saw of them. And then the fairy came the one last time…”

“And everyone suddenly had more immediate concerns than their gadabout rulers,” John said, and then he frowned – not just because the headache was coming back. “Wait, one _last_ time? She’d been here before?”

The farmer nodded. “So I heard; whether it’s true or just people trying to make the story better for telling I don’t know. But some said the fairy had been seen at the castle before, that Mr. Cogsworth had been heard complaining about ‘mysterious visitors’ one day. Apparently he didn’t much care for people not coming in the proper way––or for his majesty not letting him know someone was coming in the first place.”

“No, Mr. Cogsworth wouldn’t like that at all,” John agreed. “I appreciate you telling me these things, Master Beauchard; I agree with you that it paints a strange and rather suspicious picture – I just can’t imagine of what at the moment.” He thought of something else. “This is going to sound an odd question…but I don’t suppose you can tell me what the kingdom was called before the curse, can you? The name has vanished from every map and ledger in the castle, and no one there seems to remember it.”

“No, they wouldn’t.” The farmer looked very grim. “Because nobody does. The curse took it from all of us, even from people who knew of our kingdom but didn’t live here. It was like we’d disappeared from the world.”

“Or like someone had wanted to erase you from it,” John mused. He shook his head. “No sense, it makes absolutely no sense. Maybe I’ll set Lady Belle on that part of the mystery – she knows the castle library like the back of her hand, if there’s a clue there, she’ll find it.”

The farmer snorted a laugh. “She would, yes. We all knew her as a girl, of course,” he explained quickly. “Always going about with her nose buried in a book, or coming out with the strangest ideas she’d gotten from one. Sometimes she made it useful, though.”

John just smiled. “Sometimes it can be, yes.” He finished his tea and cake, and then he took his leave of the farmer and rode back to the castle. Slowly again, but this time because he was thinking hard. Why would you want to erase a small kingdom from the memories of everyone who’d ever known of it? And why go through an over-elaborate curse setup to imprison the heir when you could just kill him and be done with it? It seemed like an awful lot of planning and magic unless something far larger had been at stake.

He stopped on his way back through the village to buy some of the small cakes the baker had out, thinking that his princess might like one and planning to give one to Prince Adam as well – incentive to come down to the village, the way John saw it. He put the cakes safely aside once he returned to his office, dug out a stack of the paper he used for making notes, and got to work on the farmer’s records.

Adam showed up some little time later. “You went down to the village?”

“I went into the valley to talk to the farmer who paid all the tax, Master Beauchard,” John corrected. He fished out a cake and pushed it across the desk. “I stopped in the village on the way back and picked these up – they’d just come out of the oven, they smelled too good not to try.”

Adam took the chair opposite the desk and picked up the cake, inhaling the aroma appreciatively. “Oh, that is nice. So what did Master Beauchard have to say?”

“Quite a lot, once I convinced him I wasn’t there to ask for more tax than what he’d already given,” John told him; he’d already decided that the gun the man had been holding probably shouldn’t be mentioned. “They’ve a very prosperous, pretty farm, and when the curse fell his father had the means and so he helped his neighbors and eventually some of the villagers stay in business. Unfortunately that ended with him owning half the valley – which he doesn’t seem to want – and with all of them paying him rent. But that means he now has to pay the tax on all of that property, and he doesn’t feel he can raise the rents to compensate. So he’s stuck and not very happy about it.”

“Can we do anything?”

“Possibly.” John tapped the sheaf of papers. “His father set the rents low on purpose, you see. He had to keep it low enough that they could all keep paying it, but they had to pay something so the situation would remain business rather than charity. It was a good plan for keeping the kingdom going, and it worked, but now the tax is fully back and it’s left him holding the bag, so to speak. His neighbors still can’t afford to buy their property back from him, and he can’t afford to keep paying the tax on all of it with the rents so low. So…” He finished scribbling on a piece of paper, pushed it across the desk the same way he had the cake. “I believe we may be able to do it this way, Your Highness, if Master Beauchard will agree.” Adam looked at the paper, blinked at him, and then shook his head; John sighed. “Sorry, I forgot.” He leaned over the desk, using his pencil to point to each part as he described it. “Here’s what his father originally paid for each property. This shows that some of them he only owns a share of, not the whole thing – but he’s still paying the tax for those as well. Here are the rents, which the people pay on a quarterly basis, and accounting for interest here’s what they all still owe.” That number widened Adam’s eyes, and John shook his head and sat back down. “That’s actually not as bad as it could be. We still couldn’t buy him out without draining the treasury past a point I feel is wise, but we could settle on that amount with him and arrange to pay say a quarter of it yearly in return for the deeds to the properties.”

“And then we give those back to the people?”

“No, but we can afford to let them pay it back to us without interest and not charge them rent, something Master Beauchard can’t do. They’ll also all have to pay their own tax, and I propose we do that quarterly as well to make it more manageable for them. The kingdom won’t be losing any money by doing it this way, because we have a surplus which I’m having to assume is left over from the castle being enchanted.” Adam blinked at him again, and John fished around in his papers and found another one to push over. “That’s what I found in the treasury. There’s no value on some of it, because some of those rubies are the size of my fist and I wouldn’t even know where to begin deciding how much they’re worth. A good many of them seem to have been mounted in something at some point as well.”

Adam frowned. “Rubies? I seem to remember…” And then he winced. “Ow.”

John nodded. “Same headache we all get trying to put a name to the kingdom?” Adam nodded. “It’s not just us. Master Beauchard says the name was wiped out of everyone’s memory everywhere he knows of, like someone was trying to make this kingdom cease to exist. It’s got to be either another curse or part of the same one, Your Highness.”

“Of course it does.” Adam put the rest of the cake into his mouth and ate it, looking glum. “Because not letting someone in a door you could barely open anyway is certainly worth that kind of overkill, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not.” The words came out rather sharper than he’d meant them to, and John winced when Adam jumped like someone had poked him with a pin. “Sorry, Your Highness. But it’s not! It makes no sense at all unless it was part of some larger plot, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what that could have been. Why go to all that trouble? If someone had wanted to take over…well, you were a little boy, it wouldn’t have been hard to get you out of the way one way or another. If someone had just wanted to destroy the kingdom, why imprison the Beast they’d created instead of letting him go rampaging across the countryside?” He made a face. “Why, for that matter, leave him sane? I’m making the assumption here that a curse has to have some sort of out-clause, because I’ve never heard of one that didn’t, but this one seems like it was only done to keep you out of the way for ten years and get your kingdom out of everyone’s thoughts as well…” He raised a hand to the side of his head, wincing himself. “All right, that _really_ hurts.”

“Which means this curse protects itself…” Adam’s eyes widened. “So if there’s an – out-clause, you called it? – then it’s one we can’t use ourselves. Which means…”

“…Someone else has to do it.” John shook his head, then again, doing his best to force the thoughts he’d been having out; the pain receded with them, and he tossed himself back in his chair. “Dammit! I just know we were getting close!”

“Too close, apparently.” Adam thought on that for a moment, then shook his head. “All right, don’t do that again – don’t think about it, don’t try to figure it out. We can’t know how far it will go,” he cautioned when John started to open his mouth in protest. “The last one could have gone…well, I was a Beast, and I ate meat, I’ll let you guess just how badly that could have gone. But because of that, we know the fairy who cast the curse – or curses – was a very bad one who didn’t much care if people died or not.”

“True, she just wasn’t into killing them directly. So, games.” The face John made this time was disgusted. “I don’t like games.”

Adam cocked his head. “Played them a lot in Arendelle?”

“Me? No, my father taught me to stay clear of that whenever possible. Everyone else? All the time. Everything was politics, everything.” He sighed and started rearranging his papers. “All right, so that’s one problem we…can’t solve, and one problem we might be able to. First, though, I need to make sure you understand what that solution entails.” He raised an eyebrow. “Be honest, how much of the problem with the tax do you actually understand?”

Adam shrugged. “One man owns half of everything and he’s having to pay all the tax, and that’s bad?”

“Close, but no. One man owns half of everything and he doesn’t want it, that’s the problem – if he did want it, paying the tax on it would be his problem, not ours. Our problem is that his father did what he did to help the kingdom, which means it’s now the kingdom’s responsibility to fix it. With me so far?” Adam nodded, a bit cautiously. “Good. And as far as you being the ruler of the kingdom, it’s your responsibility to act on my recommendations for fixing the problem – or not if you don’t think they’re sound.”

“John, I have no idea if they’re sound or not!”

“I know, and it’s my responsibility to fix that – as I told you when you hired me, it’s not like anyone has ever shown you how the kingdom’s books are to be kept, or how the treasury is supposed to work, or even how the tax should be calculated, so there’s no way you could be expected to know any of it.”

“Do my subjects know that?”

John stood up. “They do now, because Milady Beauchard is likely the spigot half the gossip in the valley flows out of and I was rather…sharp with her husband on that topic. We’ll work on the attitude change for the village more later, though, right now we’re going to learn about the tax. Come over here to this little table by the window, Your Highness, we’re going to have a royal math lesson…”


	5. Cogsworth

The next day, Cogsworth sought out John, who was as usual in his office hard at work. “Mr. Kepperson…”

“Is this about the accounts, the tax lesson, or the truthful rumors I purposefully started spreading yesterday?”

“None of the above, but…oh dear god, you aren’t trying to teach him to figure the tax, are you?”

John shook his head. “No, but I do want him to understand how I do it on a very basic level – that way, if one of his subjects ever asks him about it, he can give them an appropriate answer.” He finished what he’d been writing and put his pen down, setting the sheet aside to dry before wiping off the nib. “My apologies, I don’t like to stop in the middle when it’s ink – it almost always blots when you come back to it, and that’s a waste of paper.”

“We’ve plenty, because they make it out of dried corn husks here, but apology accepted.” Cogsworth came the rest of the way in, looking the younger man over with a critical eye. “I have heard the rumors already, yes; good job on that. You’re planning to take the prince with you next time?”

“I think I should, yes,” John told him. “I think it would make more of an impression if we came to Master Beauchard’s farm to discuss the matter rather than commanding him to come here. And that would also give Prince Adam a chance to see more of his kingdom and his people.”

“And they him as well,” Cogsworth agreed, nodding. “Another good idea, although he’ll need to practice getting on and off his horse before you go. Horses didn’t much care for him…well, _before_ , for obvious reasons, and he’s rather nervous around them now.”

“I can take him to the stables with me the next time I go exercise Sven.” Cogsworth gave him an odd look. “I know, I know – the princess named him, and I’d already told her she could call him anything she wanted so…well, she named him Sven, I believe after her sister’s husband’s reindeer.”

“Rain-deer?”

John blinked. “Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t have ever seen one here, would you? A reindeer is…well, it’s like a regular deer, but considerably heavier and with a thick, rather shaggy coat. You can ride them, but usually they’re used to pull a sledge.”

“Hmm, interesting. It sounds like a very useful animal. Speaking of coats, though…I did come in here because of a rumor I heard, and not one you started on purpose. Stand up, please?” John stood up, looking more than a little surprised by the request, and the older man frowned. “Well, that explains it. Mr. Kepperson, I’m sure I don’t know what the standards were like in your previous appointment, but ours are rather higher than that.” He waved a hand at the somewhat faded burgundy wool jacket John was wearing, which although nicely brushed was showing quite a bit of wear. “That is perfectly appropriate for digging around in the treasury or exercising a horse, but not for going out on official business for the kingdom.”

John bowed, coloring up just a little. “I do apologize, I simply didn’t think. I shall rectify the problem as soon as I’m able, of course.”

“Before taking His Highness down to the valley.”

John nodded quickly. “I…we can postpone that trip, certainly.”

“Very well, then…” And then Cogsworth stopped. “Wait, why would you need to postpone it? The royal tailor keeps a pattern cut, and you’re not that far off my size; I’m sure he could have something sewn up within a day.”

The younger man colored up quite a bit more. “I…shall have to wait for quarter-day for that, Mr. Cogsworth,” he said gravely, and then bowed again. “Was there anything else?”

Cogsworth’s mouth dropped open. “Wait, you thought…” And then he slapped his forehead. “I am an idiot. It’s been so long since we’ve had a new person in the castle, I didn’t even think to tell you…well, anything, did I?” He was feeling rather more than embarrassed himself now. “Mr…may I call you John?” John nodded. “You may just call me Cogsworth, of course, like everyone else does. John, I do apologize for my oversight: Your wardrobe is part of your keep. We used to have a seamstress resident here in the castle – she just loved dressing Lady Belle – but she went down to the village to live with her old mother after the curse was broken. We have her or the tailor come up if we need anything, because it isn’t considered seemly for the castle staff to go down for that. So in your former position…”

“The under-servants had their work clothing provided each quarter, but the rest of us were responsible for our own,” John confirmed, looking probably more relieved than Cogsworth thought he meant to. “It wasn’t all that seemly for us to go down into the town for it either, and the royal tailor was prohibitively expensive, so usually the butler would find some goodwife or landed seaman who wanted to earn a few coins to do for us.” A very slight smile. “The royal councilors had quite high standards, in fact, but even they had to make some compromises due to the state of the royal treasury. Silk and satin may look impressive, but wool wears better and means you have to heat the castle less.”

“Of course,” Cogsworth agreed. “They didn’t bargain for velvet?”

John snorted and sat back down. “They did, until I pointed out that velvet required special care to maintain its appearance, and that meant paying an extra washerwoman – the threat of extra staff expense shut down all the arguments very quickly, believe me. So will the tailor be coming any time this week? I wouldn’t want to cause him to come up specially, but I don’t like to put this tax matter off any longer than necessary.”

“He should be coming tomorrow morning,” Cogsworth told him. Which was true, because he was planning to send for the tailor and tell him to come right after breakfast. “I agree that anything to do with the tax shouldn’t be put off. And in the meantime…well, if you can get His Highness to actually look like a prince on his horse instead of looking like he thinks the creature is planning to turn on him at any moment, that would probably be for the best.”

That made John smile. “I should be able to do that. I’m not much on a horse myself, but I was able to teach the princess enough to get by. If Prince Adam is free this afternoon…”

Cogsworth assured him that he could find time in the prince’s schedule – something he knew he could do fairly easily, since their prince didn’t actually have a schedule unless somebody else set one for him – and left the office with much on his mind. He spoke to a few of the other members of the staff, then rounded up Lumiere and took him to his office, closing the door so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Lumiere, I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

The former waiter, now the castle’s butler, sat down in a chair and raised one saturnine eyebrow. He was a tall, thin man with a narrow face, sharp dark eyes, and graceful, long-fingered hands which were in constant motion when he was speaking. “Well, zis is a first.”

“Stop, I’m serious.” Cogsworth sank down into his own chair. “It’s our new bookkeeper. I didn’t think…Lumiere, what do you know about his former kingdom, Arendelle? I’d gotten the impression that it was quite a bit larger than ours…”

Lumiere nodded. “Oui, that it is. Ze princess has mentioned that ze castle there was much larger than this one.” He smiled. “But she says ours is much prettier.”

Cogsworth snorted. “Well, we do have that going for us – the entire kingdom is too lovely for words, whether we can put a name to it or not. But if their kingdom was larger…something is very wrong there. I went to…well, I went to scold young John, because someone said something about the state of his clothing when he went down to the village yesterday. He thought he had to pay for his own clothes, Lumiere! He said his kingdom’s councilors had very high standards, but he and the rest of the upper staff couldn’t afford the royal tailor – and he’d convinced the councilors to compromise on fabrics by citing the extra staff expense anything but wool would incur. I just don’t understand.”

“I believe I may – a bit, anyway.” Lumiere sat back in the chair, stretching out his legs and steepling his fingers in front of him. “Ze princess, her parents have been gone a verry long time, just as our prince’s have. And she just came of age herself less than a year ago. So, no king. No queen. Ze princess, she was locked in her room; her little sister is several years younger. And our bookkeeper, he had to spirit her away in ze middle of ze night – verry suddenly, you understand, on zis ‘quest’ with only one horse, verry little money, and a small, small bag of supplies to keep them. What do you think has happened there? To me, it is obvious.”

“Dear god.” Cogsworth shook his head. “They were coming to kill her. And he lied…”

“To keep her from getting upset, of course. She has ze mind of a child, she is an innocent, yes? And ze last time she got upset…well, ze princess she is still verry sad about what happened in her kingdom because of ze long winter she caused. She says John, he was trying to help her fix what zey could.” He gave Cogsworth a meaningful look. “She also says he was ze only one zey ever sent to talk to her.”

“Because if he were killed…well, that would save some expense in the staff, wouldn’t it?” The steward was horrified. “He…when I came to see him just now, he was writing something in ink and didn’t stop for me; he apologized once he was finished, saying he didn’t like to stop because an ink blot would mean a waste of paper. He’s so young, barely older than his princess is, he’s likely never known his kingdom when they weren’t having to watch every coin.”

“And so here, he does not assume,” Lumiere pointed out. “It is not a bad thing, just one we must remain aware of, no?” He stood back up. “Shall I send for ze tailor to come? I have need of some new pants myself, so that way he will not feel as though zis is unusual.”

“Yes, do that – have him come tomorrow right after breakfast if possible. Maybe we’ll have him fit a new jacket for the prince as well while he’s here, since young John means to take him down to the valley to speak to someone about the tax.” Lumiere’s eyebrows went all the way up, and Cogsworth had to chuckle. “John was actually teaching him about the tax yesterday, if you can believe it – he said His Highness needed to know enough to answer a question if one of his subjects asked about it.”

Lumiere shook his head. “Next you will be telling me he is going to get our prince on a horse.”

Cogsworth just smiled. “Well, he did say he was going to try.”


	6. The Riding Lesson

That afternoon, Adam came into the office wearing a puzzled look. “John, Cogsworth said I’m scheduled to meet with you now?”

“You…oh yes, that. We can do it now, of course.” John carefully put his pencil away and moved a book to hold down his papers, then stood up. “I was just going to exercise Sven, I told him I’d take you with me.”

“Sven?”

“Princess Elsa’s horse.”

Adam turned a funny color. “I…”

“Have to learn to ride with confidence, Your Highness – or at least give the appearance of it,” John told him. “We have to go down into the valley to talk to Master Beauchard, remember? It’s much too far to walk, and not far enough for a carriage.” He circled around the desk and, taking a chance, patted the other man’s arm. “Prince Adam, I’m not all that good with horses myself, but I was able to teach the princess how to manage one. And Sven is a fine horse but quite lazy, he wouldn’t bolt if you told him to. Now if you’ll come with me, we’ll see about getting a treat for him from the kitchen and then we’ll take him out.”

The prince was mostly agreeable to that, so John led the way to the main kitchen, steeling himself for another round of scolding from Mrs. Potts. If Cogsworth had heard ‘rumors’ about the state of his clothes, there was no way she hadn’t. Hopefully she would just be pleased that he was going out again – or even better, perhaps she’d just not be in the kitchen at all.

She was there, of course, and very near the door as well, and he held back a sigh and bowed. “Mrs. Potts, might we get a few apples for the horses?”

“Horses?” Oh thank goodness, she’d been distracted from the scold he’d known was coming by the prince, who was trying to look like him going to visit the horses was nothing unusual – and failing rather miserably. “Oh, Your Highness…”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m told I need to learn to be more confident on a horse, so Cogsworth arranged for me to go with John when he exercised the princess’s horse this afternoon.”

She immediately raised an eyebrow at John, who held up his hands to ward off the scold he was sure was coming. “Sven is a very docile creature, Mrs. Potts. I taught the princess to ride him – she adores him, she even named him. And I thought half an apple might convince some of the other horses in the stable to look forward to seeing the prince. They react to someone being nervous in their presence by becoming skittish themselves, but they’ll ignore that if he feeds them something they like.”

The eyebrow stayed up. “Is that how you did it?”

John nodded. “That’s how a courier showed me, yes. Apparently they’re frequently asked to ride strange horses, so most of them carry something just for winning one over.” The eyebrow went down, and he did not quite sigh in relief. “The apple basket? I’ll pick out some bruised ones, the horses don’t know the difference.”

She waved him across the kitchen, and he made for the basket. When he got near to it, however, he frowned. The apples were a deep, beautiful red, and the way the light from the hearth fire played over them made them look almost faceted…he had to catch himself by grabbing the edge of the worktable when a spike of pain shot through his head. He heard the prince and the cook both exclaim in alarm, and then a strong hand was on his arm. “John!”

He waved his hand toward the basket. “Apples…the rubies, Your Highness, they’re…”

The next spike of pain almost made him cry out. “Stop thinking about it!” Adam ordered; he sounded pained as well, and his grip on John’s arm had become almost bruising. “It’s the curse, Mrs. Potts – the one that gives us all a headache when we try to put a name to our kingdom. This is how it protects itself. He must have had a thought which came very close.”

John forced his thoughts away from rubies and apples with an effort, slumping against the table in relief when the pain stopped. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I just saw them and…”

“Don’t think about it,” Adam warned. He had a hand pressed to the side of his head. “My god, that felt like someone had stabbed me in the eye. We’ll have to be more careful. Should we feed the horses something different, John?”

John shook his head, only betraying a slight wince. “It was just…the way they looked in the light just now that made me think of it. I eat apples all the time.”

“Yes, you eat them instead of eating real food,” Mrs. Potts scolded, and John winced again, but for a different reason this time. To his surprise, though, she patted his shoulder. “Let me get you a few bruised ones for the horses. If you’re sure you’re able to go out?”

John straightened away from the table, taking a deep breath and smoothing the lapels of his jacket. “Yes, I’m fine now, thank you. The…effect stops straightaway once you think on something different.”

“It does,” Adam confirmed when she looked to him for confirmation of that. “We figured that out yesterday.” This time he was the one who put up his hands to ward off the scold. “Quite by accident, I assure you. We’d all known about the headache, but I hadn’t known the curse could do worse than that until yesterday when I was speaking with John about it.”

She gave them both a very long look, and then she shook her head and huffed. “Boys! Always getting into some sort of trouble, even when they aren’t trying to.” She got two slightly bruised apples for them, and even cut the apples in half and wrapped them in a napkin. “There, go play with the horses. It’s a lovely afternoon for it, and it’s about time His Highness learned to not treat the creatures like they were dragons wanting to eat him.”

Adam appeared somewhat offended by this, although not enough to do more than sulk a bit on their way out to the stables. Which only currently housed six horses: two for the royal carriage, three for riding, and Sven. Adam started when Sven spotted John and immediately neighed. “What…”

“He’s saying hello, he’s happy to see me,” John explained. “I come out to exercise him every day, and he likes that.” He fished an apple-half out of the napkin and then led Adam over to Sven’s stall. The horse tossed its head and snorted, making Adam jump. “No, that’s because he can tell you’re afraid, which makes him afraid too – not of you, of whatever it is you’re afraid of that he can’t see. He’s not going to hurt you.” He put the apple in Adam’s hand. “Now hold it out to him, keeping your hand absolutely flat, like a plate.”

Adam did, very slowly, and his blue eyes widened when the horse immediately stopped looking as nervous as he felt and started nosing at the apple instead. It then took the apple with its lips and teeth, but very delicately, and stood there chewing with what could only be described as a blissful look on its face. Encouraged by John, Adam stroked the top of the horse’s face, just above its nose. “He’s soft.”

“He gets brushed a lot. The stablemaster is using Sven to train the new boy because Sven isn’t prone to kicking or biting and he mostly just stands there and lets you do whatever you want.” John patted the horse’s neck. “He’s horribly spoiled, but still a very good horse. Now, let’s feed a few of his friends so they don’t get jealous. Which one is yours?”

“I’m told it’s that one.” Adam pointed to the last stall, where a very large black horse stood glaring at them. “I’m not feeding him. He hates me, he’ll take my hand off.”

“He might try, but that’s because he’s a stallion, Your Highness.” The stablemaster had come out, and he bowed. “He doesn’t hate you. Stallions just tend to be rather more temperamental than geldings like Sven, and more prone to react if you’re nervous around them.”

“I don’t think I blame him for being nervous around that horse, Mr. Fabron.” John made a face. “I don’t want to go near it either.”

“Geldings?” Adam wanted to know. “What does that mean?”

The stablemaster bit his lip. “Well, it’s something we do, to a foal – a very young horse – if we’re not going to use them for stud.” That got him two blank looks. “If we don’t want them getting at the mares to make foals, we…well, we take off their…you know.” Both of the younger men apparently got the idea, and looked more than a little horrified by it, and he hastened to reassure them. “It doesn’t hurt them all that much, because we do it when they’re quite young. And a gelding is much, much calmer than a stallion, and much better for regular riding because he won’t be…distracted by any mares he comes across that happen to be in season. Part of Cauchemar’s problem right now,” he said, waving at the black horse. “The carriage horses are both mares, and they were just in season. He’s already done his duty there and now they want nothing else to do with him, so he’s not very happy at the moment. Speaking of which, Your Highness, if it’s at all possible we’re going to need another team of horses for the carriage. Once the mares get farther along, it won’t be safe to have them pull it.”

“Where do we get more horses?”

“There are some farmers down in the valley who breed horses,” Mr. Fabron told him. “I’d like to get a sturdier pair anyway, we could have used them last year when the snows got deep. These two are lovely, but not right for such conditions.”

Adam nodded. “If you find the right pair, then, get them,” he agreed. “Just tell John how much so he can get it out of the treasury for you. Do we need anything else?” The black horse stamped its foot and snorted. “An iron cage, maybe?”

That made the stablemaster laugh. “Cauchemar’s really not that bad, Your Highness – although I do agree, you shouldn’t go anywhere near him. Even the stableboys don’t, I tend to him myself.” He cocked a considering eyebrow. “I could look for a more suitable horse for you when I’m looking for carriage horses, Prince Adam. We can keep Cauchemar for stud, he does bring in enough by doing that to justify keeping him. Some of the farmers pay us to let him breed their mares,” he explained so his prince wouldn’t have to ask. “Or we barter with them for the service, as improving the stock in the valley is good for all of us.”

John looked pleased to hear that, which Adam took as a sign that it was a good attitude for the stablemaster to have. “Then we should definitely keep doing that,” he agreed. “And yes, if you could find me a horse that isn’t a nightmare on four legs, I would appreciate it. Do we need a larger stable?”

“Not yet, no. Next year we might, after the foals are born if we decide to keep them.” He waved a hand at the mares. “If you’ve got more apple, those two would appreciate the treat. You’re going to take Sven out for his exercise, Mr. Kepperson?”

“And take the prince out with us,” John confirmed. “We’ve got to ride down to the valley ourselves later this week, and Cogsworth said he needed more riding practice.”

“Of course,” Mr. Fabron agreed. “You can ride one of the other horses for that, Your Highness,” he assured his prince. “That chestnut gelding over there is the one Mr. Cogsworth normally rides, he’d do nicely.” He bowed again. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll just go back to what I was doing.”

He did go back to the tack room, where he’d been polishing a harness, but he left the door open because he really wanted to see this riding lesson. His own attempts at approaching the prince – or having Mr. Cogsworth approach him – regarding re-learning how to ride had all been dismal failures, most likely because the old groom had been so insistent that the prince should ride a stallion just like his father before him had, and that the stallion had to be Cauchemar. In fact, he’d been so insistent that Mr. Cogsworth had quietly retired him – even a steward who had very little experience with horses himself had known that putting a nervous novice rider onto the back of a high-strung, ill-tempered stallion would be tantamount to murder, and rumor had it that the old groom had apparently not been at all pleased to have spent ten years transformed into whatever it was he’d been holding when the curse had struck. Knowing the daily workings of a stable, it had almost certainly been something quite unpleasant.

John saddled Sven while Adam fed the carriage horses, and then he led both horse and prince out into the yard. Mr. Fabron watched as he demonstrated how to mount, indicating with a swish of his hand that you had to be mindful of your cloak if you were wearing one, and then had the prince try it. He stopped him halfway through the try and explained it again, and then a second time where he walked the prince through the idea that you were supposed to be swinging up, not climbing up.

The stablemaster would have been even more amused if he could have heard the conversation which was accompanying the lesson. “Your Highness, he’s not going anywhere; and even if he were inclined to, I’m holding his head.”

Adam frowned. “But what if you aren’t here to do that?”

“Then Mr. Fabron will be, or one of the stablehands. But you won’t actually need anyone to hold your horse for you once you get used to swinging up into the saddle. Now try it again, please – and remember, this should actually be easier for you than it is for me, because you don’t have to swing up quite as far.”

“I don’t, do I?” Adam got ready to try it again, but stopped when Sven looked at him sideways. “He’s mad.”

“He’s confused, because we keep going up and down but we’re not going anywhere.” John gave Sven the last piece of apple, which solved that problem. “All right, this time you’re doing it. Swing up!”

Adam put his foot in the stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn and swung his other leg over the horse’s back…and then he was in the saddle almost before he had time to think about it. He looked down at John. “That…”

“Is how you do it, yes.” John was beaming. “Now sit up straight, you’re to keep your balance with your legs, not your hands. I’m going to lead him around the yard so you can get used to the way he moves, and then we’ll try it again with you holding the reins instead of me.”

He led Sven around the yard at a very casual pace, letting Adam find his balance, and then he had the prince dismount and they did it again with Adam holding the reins for himself – although John walked next to the horse just in case. And then they did it a third time, and this time John leaned on the fence and watched. Adam dismounted without instruction this time, and Mr. Fabron was pleased to see his prince’s natural grace coming to the fore as his nerves receded. “That wasn’t hard at all!”

“Sven is a very easy horse to ride,” John agreed, taking back the reins and patting the horse’s neck. “Tomorrow maybe we can take out Cogsworth’s horse and let you ride him around the yard while I ride Sven.”

“Is he…”

“I’ve no doubt he’s almost as calm as Sven is, Your Highness. People don’t ride excitable horses in the mountains, it isn’t safe.”

“Cauchemar…”

“Is the kind of horse only a very experienced horseman can handle, but that’s not because he’s excitable or jumpy. He’s just a very large, mean horse, and if someone is going to ride him they have to have enough presence, enough confidence, to impress upon him that they’re someone he should respect. Mr. Fabron must be a very accomplished rider for Cauchemar to even let him mount.”

The stablemaster, who had been coming out to get Sven since it was obvious they were done for the day, couldn’t help but puff up a little with pride over that compliment; he bowed to John. “Why thank you, Mr. Kepperson, that’s very nice of you to say. Shall I put Sven up for you?”

“Yes, thank you. Has the princess been out yet?”

“No, but I’m sure she will be any time now.” Sven neighed suddenly, and Mr. Fabron did not quite roll his eyes. “You spoiled thing.” He waved his hand to Elsa, who was peering out of the stable, no doubt looking for her horse. “We’re out here, Your Highness! I was just about to bring him in.”

They met her halfway between stable and yard, and Sven snorted when she threw her arms around his neck. “Were you having your exercise, Sven? I’ve got sugar for you.”

Sven snorted again and nosed at her, and she gave him a sugar cube. Adam was fascinated. “He eats sugar?”

“They all do, Your Highness,” the stablemaster told him. “It’s like having a piece of candy, it’s a treat. Apples are better for them, though.”

Elsa looked around the horse’s head at him. “Sven shouldn’t have sugar?”

“He shouldn’t have too much,” Fabron clarified. “A few cubes as a treat won’t hurt him, Princess, don’t worry. I’d have told you if you were giving him too much.”

“Oh good. I like giving him treats.” Elsa hugged the horse again. “I brought a ribbon, I want to try to plait his mane again. Can I brush him?”

“Of course, Your Highness. Just let me wipe him down first, he’s sweaty from his exercise. If you’ll go get your apron on, I’ll meet you at his stall.” She hurried off to do that, and the stablemaster bowed to Adam. “If there’s nothing else, Your Highness…”

“No, I believe we’re done for the day. I’d like to try riding Cogsworth’s horse…”

“Marron.”

“Thank you. I’d like to try riding Marron tomorrow, if that would be all right?”

Fabron kept himself from smiling. The boy really had no idea that most rulers demanded instead of asking. “Of course, Your Highness. I’ll have him ready for you at this same time tomorrow.”


	7. Negotiation

By the end of the week, Adam was comfortable enough on a horse to not resist the idea of riding one down the mountain to go see about fixing the tax problem with John. He and John each had a new jacket to wear, and John had worked very hard to complete all of the paperwork required for the deal they were about to attempt to make with Master Beauchard. He also had the gold for the first installment, because as he’d told Adam – and Cogsworth, who’d been quite concerned about them carrying so much – a person would be more likely to agree during a negotiation if the money involved was where they could see it. “I don’t want to call it greed, but it’s something like that,” he’d explained. “I’m sure you’ve done it yourself, Cogsworth – held the money where someone could see it to stop them dragging out the bargaining.”

“I’ve seen Lumiere do it,” Cogsworth agreed. “But that is considerably more than one gold piece, John – and we’ve still some ruffians around the area, they hang about at the old tavern.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “You can just call it ‘Gaston’s Tavern’, Cogsworth,” he admonished. “It’s not like I was _trying_ to kill him.”

“It’s not like we even know if you did kill him, since they’ve never found his body,” Cogsworth admonished right back. “And it’s not his tavern anymore, Your Highness; one of the ruffians he left behind tried to take it over, but that didn’t last and the place is a collapsing ruin right now as the village refused to stand for it anymore.”

In truth, the main reason the village had stopped standing for it was the tied-up troop of ruffians Lumiere and Cogsworth had dragged down the mountain after the curse had ended and all but thrown at the town’s lackadaisical magistrate. Who still hadn’t wanted to do anything with them – ‘boys will be boys’, he’d tried to call it, in spite of the fact that all of them were long past boyhood – until Lumiere had very smoothly offered to kill them all if they were not locked up. He’d made enough noise coming into the village about exactly what kind of drunken ruffians they were and what they’d tried to do in the castle that half the residents had followed them to the magistrate’s office, and nobody had been sympathetic to said magistrate’s opinion that such violence had been in any way justified.

They had a new sometime magistrate now who didn’t frequent such places or favor those who did, and as such the village had gone back to being quiet and friendly. Of course, having the curse – or at least part of it – broken may have also had something to do with that. If the old magistrate had still been in charge, there was no way Cogsworth would have dared to let the prince ride into the village with only young John to look out for him – the old one had wanted him hauled in and jailed for murdering Gaston, who according to him had ‘just been attempting to defend a young woman from a vicious monster’.

Cogsworth pointing out in a very loud voice that said young woman had been terrified of Gaston as he’d been trying to force her into marriage with him very much against her will and had assaulted her father and caused him to be unfairly locked up – by that selfsame magistrate – had stood that accusation on its head. Especially as the ruffians were still just drunk enough to be willing to blab about beasts and talking furniture and how Gaston had told them to destroy everything moving within the castle and then they’d be allowed to pillage it before he took over and became ‘the king he was meant to be’. That hadn’t gone over all too well either.

 

Cogsworth’s horse, Marron – or at least, it was the horse Cogsworth usually rode – knew the road down to the village quite well, so Adam found himself in the pleasant position of not having to do much other than look around as he and John made their way down to the valley below the castle. And the village was a surprise to him. “It’s pretty!”

“Yes, quite, Your Highness,” John agreed placidly. “It’s a beautiful little village, and a beautiful valley as well – rather like a jewel fallen at the foot of the mountains.”

“Well that was poetry.”

John snorted. “Hardly. I’m a practical man, Your Highness.”

Adam didn’t argue with that, because it was true, but he still thought the description had been poetic. He’d started to notice that John had a romantic streak in him which he seemed to be at some pains to hold back in his everyday interactions with everyone but Princess Elsa – and, lately, with Adam himself.

They went through the village without stopping, and quickly enough that no one had a chance to waylay them, but Adam still got a good look. It was a beautiful little village, with its pretty whitewashed buildings and clean cobblestones and neat, busy people. He nodded to a few people who stopped what they were doing to stare at him, thankful that nobody was trying to speak to him because he wasn’t sure what he would have said, and he resumed talking to John once they’d passed the last thatch-roofed house to continue down into the wide bowl of a valley below. “I don’t suppose you know what I’m supposed to do if someone speaks to me, do you?”

John smiled. “What would you do if I spoke to you, Your Highness?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Yes, it is,” John assured him. “If someone speaks to you, answer in kind – the same way you’d answer someone who spoke to you at the castle. And there’s no one with rank here except yourself and Lady Belle and the princess, according to Cogsworth, so that simplifies things considerably.”

Adam considered that. “What if they ask about the Beast?”

“They won’t. It would be terribly rude and impertinent of them to ask something like that, and I do believe most of them are unsure enough of how you might react – or how the rest of us might – that they’ll mind their manners when they speak to you or fear the consequences.”

“Are there consequences?”

“That depends on who says what and how,” John said. “If someone got too far out of line I’d need to intervene – if I were a bigger man that could be a more physical correction, but as I’m not a strong rebuke would have to do.” He smiled. “Unfortunately, it just wouldn’t do to bring Lumiere along for something like this.”

That made the prince laugh. “No, I don’t suppose it would be.”

 

They rode up to the gates of Master Beauchard’s farm and then dismounted, and when John saw the farmer come out he waved and the man squinted at them and then waved back and met them halfway across the yard, blunderbuss held loosely in his off hand so that he could shake John’s hand with the other. “Mr. Kepperson! Pleasure to see you again.” He looked ever so slightly embarrassed. “I certainly hope my wife’s prattling didn’t cause you trouble; that new coat isn’t her fault, is it?”

John laughed. “I did need a new one for official business and simply hadn’t thought of it, so it was a timely intervention.” He straightened. “Master Beauchard, I don’t believe you’ve formally met Prince Adam. Your Highness, Master Beauchard, the owner of this lovely farm – and unfortunately of half the rest of the valley besides.”

The farmer almost dropped his gun. Adam bowed. “Master Beauchard, my apologies for the confusion with the tax. If you’ve time to spare, we may have a solution to the problem the curse saw to saddling your family with.”

Beauchard remembered himself and bowed back. “Your Highness, of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”

Adam smiled. “Well, it’s not like I’ve left the castle all that much so people could see me, so I don’t blame you for that.”

“I’m afraid it was my idea to come without giving warning first,” John admitted. “As the business we have to discuss is of a somewhat personal nature, and His Highness was going to join us, I thought it would be better to just come down quietly and without a lot of fanfare.”

“Thank you for thinking of that, then – although I warn you now, my wife won’t be likely to forgive either of us for the surprise of having our prince in for a visit with no warning.” He bowed again. “Your Highness, if you’d like to come into the house, we can get down to business. I was more than relieved that Mr. Kepperson here not only knew what he was about but had hopes that he could fix the problem.”

“I was very upset when I realized that I’d actually made it worse,” Adam told him frankly. “I do apologize for that. From what I understand your family has kept this kingdom together for the past twelve years. We owe you a great deal.”

“My father thought it our duty,” Beauchard disclaimed. “And I tend to agree with him. If you’re rooted in a place, it’s your responsibility to help look out for it.”

He ushered them into the house and to the same table he and John had sat at before. Madame Beauchard came bustling out before they had fully sat down, and both men immediately returned to their feet to bow to her. “Madame Beauchard,” John greeted her politely. “So sorry to intrude on you without warning this way, but I felt it would be safer and more private for all concerned if nobody knew the prince and I were coming today.”

“The _prince_?!” Adam smiled, inclining his head in a polite nod, and she clapped a hand to her mouth to contain her squeal, flushing red and then dropping a hasty curtsey. “Oh, Your Highness!”

“My lady,” he returned politely. “I trust our surprise visit won’t cause you too much inconvenience?”

“Of course not, Your Highness. I’m so sorry, I haven’t anything to offer you but tea and cake…”

Adam smiled again. “That would be more than acceptable, madame. And I was rather hoping there would be cake, as Mr. Kepperson had quite a lot to say about how good yours was when he was here a week ago.”

Madame Beauchard was nearly overcome by this, and dropped another curtsey by way of response before hurrying back into the kitchen. Her husband sat back down as soon as Adam had, not quite rolling his eyes. “Well, that will put the fox into the henhouse around here once she starts sharing it – the local wives are somewhat competitive when it comes to their baking, but luckily my Maribelle can hold her own in that area.”

John smiled. “I thought she probably could – it was very good cake.” He pulled the smaller bundle of papers out of his satchel and laid them out on the table. “I’ll get right to business, if you don’t mind, Master Beauchard – we don’t want to keep you from your work, or your wife from hers either. I went over the list you gave me and added up the amounts owed on each involved property in the valley, and I also recalculated the tax for each of them just to see where it was going to end up.” He pushed over a sheet of paper. “That’s the comparison between your income from the rents and the tax, and you were more than right about the tax outstripping the rents in short order. Next year wouldn’t be too much of a loss, but the year after that would have you in a truly ugly situation. We’re not letting that happen if at all possible, it simply wouldn’t be right. But I believe you can see by the total owed to you at the bottom of the page that we couldn’t simply buy the properties out from you without draining the treasury down to the bare stone. So, a compromise.” He handed over a second sheet of paper. “What we’re proposing is this: The kingdom will agree to give you the remainder of what’s owed to your family on these properties in four installments, one payment now and one payment each year for the next three years. The property owners will go back to paying their own taxes, along with a small set sum toward the amount they owe on their deed, and we’ll be changing the tax payment schedule to quarterly to make it easier on everyone.”

The farmer was nodding, running his finger down the list of amounts. “The interest?”

“There won’t be any.” That was from Adam. “The kingdom can afford to do without it, something an individual wouldn’t be able to do without losing more money than would be reasonable on the transaction. John showed me your end of the numbers without the interest, they were even uglier than the first set. We’d not ask you to do that, it wouldn’t be fair.”

Master Beauchard seemed rather struck by this statement, but he nodded and then applied himself to reading down the paper again. “So if they don’t pay…”

“The deed remains with the Crown,” John told him. He pulled out a much larger stack of papers, this one tied with a ribbon, and extracted the one on the top. “I wrote it into the new deeds, in fact. Four missed payments – a year of default – results in the deed to the property reverting to the kingdom. Meaning they’d have to pay rent if they wanted to stay, and that rent would come at a much steeper price than what they’ve become used to paying. It would have to cover the amount lost in tax as well as usage and depreciation, after all.”

Adam was somewhat alarmed by the expression on the farmer’s face, wondering if perhaps that had been a step too far, but when the man looked at him as though to ask if he was in agreement with that he nodded gravely. “John has explained to me at some length how this is supposed to work,” he said. “I believe it’s as fair an arrangement for all concerned as we’re going to be able to come up with at present. The decision of whether to accept our offer, however, lies entirely with you. You must make the decision you believe will best benefit yourself and your family.”

Master Beauchard stared at him. “You’re not…your pardon, Your Highness, but I’m not sure I understand. You’re offering me the choice to _refuse_?”

“Well of course we are.” Adam was confused by the question and it showed. “Why wouldn’t we?”

The older man looked him in the eye, a very direct, searching look which was more than a little bold for a man to apply to the ruler of his kingdom, and then shook his head as though to clear it and stood up. “If I might have a moment, I need to include my wife in this decision.”

“Certainly.” Adam frowned as the farmer hurried into the kitchen, then turned to John and asked in a low voice, “What was that all about?”

John offered him a reassuring smile. “You just proved to him that I wasn’t lying the last time I was here – I’ll explain later. It’s a good thing, though, a very good thing.”

“I’ll take your word for that.” After a moment they heard a shriek from the farmer’s wife, and a moment later Master Beauchard came back out with her. Adam and John both stood up again “My lady, is everything quite all right?” She nodded, clutching her husband’s arm and seemingly unable to speak, and Adam decided that maybe he should treat her the way he’d treat Mrs. Potts in a similar situation. He pulled out one of the table’s chairs and put her in it, then sat down again himself and took her plump, work-roughened hand in his, patting the back of it. “Should we get you some tea? Would that help?”

She blinked at him. “We’re…we’re really to be free of it? Forever free of it?”

Adam was confused again, but he nodded. “Yes, if you and your husband wish it.”

Master Beauchard put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We do wish it, Your Highness. It’s been a millstone around our family’s neck, having our friends and neighbors indebted to us this way. We simply didn’t…begging your pardon, but we simply never expected such fair terms as you’ve offered.”

Adam looked the question at John, who shook his head. “In some places the Crown claims ultimate ownership of all the lands in the kingdom, Your Highness,” he explained. “I’ve found no indication that your kingdom has ever done things that way, but the records from the past few decades are somewhat incomplete. Mr. Cogsworth was able to tell me that there was never an official change in that area of policy, though.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Adam said, and meant it. “I’d feel like a tyrant, trying to run things that way.”

Master Beauchard covered a rather singular little cough with his hand. “Your pardon again, Your Highness…but I don’t think you’ve got it in you to be a tyrant.” He sat down again, looking extremely relieved. “So, I’m guessing you’ve things for me to sign?”

“Yes,” John told him, and provided a very nicely drawn-up sheet with the agreement spelled out on it, and also a corked ink bottle and a pen. The farmer signed, and John took that sheet and blew on it, then set it aside most carefully to dry and pulled over the ribbon-bound stack. “I do apologize for this part, but I couldn’t see a way to make sure nobody could contest the transfer of the deeds other than having you sign each one. I wouldn’t think anyone should have an objection, but it’s usually best to anticipate a problem rather than being surprised by one.”

“I quite agree, yes.” The farmer got to work signing, passing each sheet back to John as he finished with it, but one he hesitated over. “Oh bother, I’d forgotten about this.” He held it up. “Mr. Dufour, the baker – he married my sister-in-law last spring, so we’d rather written that one off. Should I keep it as it is?”

John took the deed back and looked at it, frowning. “Hmm, I’d not like to do that, because then you’d still be responsible for paying his tax. If you wanted to pay his deed off, however?” Master Beauchard nodded. “Yes, that would work better all the way around, I think. Go ahead and sign it, and we’ll set that one aside to deal with when we’re done with the rest.”

It took a good amount of time to finish the signing, and then John carefully re-stacked the deeds with sheets of blotting paper between them and set them to one side. He then got into his bag again and pulled out a small iron-banded box with a sturdy lock on it, which he placed in the center of the table. “Your Highness, if you’d care to open it…”

Adam produced the key and did so, opening the box to reveal the neat stacks of coins within. “The first installment,” he said. “We didn’t want you to have to come to the castle to get it, that might not have been safe.”

“We’ll lock the signed deeds in the box for safekeeping,” John added. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring a second box for that, but we didn’t want it to be obvious what we were carrying.”

“A good thought, that might not have been safe,” the farmer managed. He stood up. “I’ve got a strongbox, just let me go get it.” He hurried out, and came back a few moments later with a larger version of the iron-banded box, looking a little surprised when he saw that John had been counting the coins out into stacks for him so the amount could be verified – he wouldn’t have dared to count them otherwise – and then signed the receipt he was presented with acknowledging that the amount he was accepting was the same as the amount owed. And then he was putting the coins into the strongbox along with a second receipt and his own copy of the agreement. “Now, shall I pay out my brother-in-law’s deed from this?”

“No,” John told him, and handed that deed over, indicating that it was to be put in the strongbox as well. “Bring it when you come to pay the quarterly tax and take care of it publicly then, or have your brother-in-law do it. That way no one can start malicious gossip about favoritism or secret deals or what have you. And as I’m sure the magistrate and you personally make arrangements for the security of everyone’s gold at tax-time, it should be safer to pay it then as well.”

“A good thought – both of them,” Master Beauchard agreed. He placed the baker’s deed into the strongbox on top of the gold and locked it, watching as John did the same with the other deeds in the box he’d brought and then tucked that away in his bag again. “We should celebrate this with something finer than tea,” he declared. “Maribelle, bring us a bottle of the year before last’s? I think the prince and Mr. Kepperson would appreciate that one. And it goes very well with cake, too.”

 

Adam and John accepted the grateful farmer’s hospitality with pleasure, and after about an hour of very good wine and equally good cake they took their leave and started making their way back to the castle. “That went very well,” Adam said. “Didn’t it?”

“It did,” John assured him. “We may need to do some more digging in the records, though. Master Beauchard and his wife were a bit too surprised at the terms we were offering for my comfort, and I’d like to know who’d been doing things the unofficial tyrant way and why.”

“I suspect it had to have been my father,” Adam admitted. “As to the why, though, I’d like to know that myself. Especially since Cogsworth told you it was never officially done that way in our kingdom. We’ve more than enough mysteries here now, it would be nice to clear some of them up. Speaking of which, your coat?” John blushed. “John, were you _lying_ to Master Beauchard about his wife getting you into trouble? I’m shocked.”

“I…didn’t want to cause problems between them for an oversight that was my fault,” John returned, going even redder. “I simply didn’t think about appearances when I came down the first time, so it was a timely reminder.”

Adam nodded thoughtfully. “I see. And you didn’t think to mention that Master Beauchard goes about his farm armed with a gun the size of my leg…”

John swallowed. “My assumption is he carries that to ward off either wildlife or robbers, possibly both. I’d not have brought you with me if I’d thought for one minute you’d be in any danger, Your Highness.”

“I know you wouldn’t have.” And he did; Adam had no doubts on that score at all. “Should I make a guess as to the other reason you might not have wanted word to get around the castle about him greeting you the first time with the business end of his extremely large gun?”

John glanced sideways at him. “I think you already know, Your Highness.”

“Yes, I suppose I do.” Princess Elsa was in John’s office at least once a day, after all, telling him everything she’d learned from Belle and peppering him with questions about things she didn’t understand. She’d not have taken kindly to the idea of someone threatening him. Adam thought Cogsworth probably wouldn’t have either, or Mrs. Potts – although he didn’t think John knew that – and the resulting vitriolic return-gossip from the castle’s staff most likely would have destroyed any chance they might have had to fix the tax problem.

Adam was startled out of his thoughts by the sight of someone appearing out of the bushes and stepping into the road, a short roundish man with a face full of dirty stubble and dirty, somewhat ragged clothes. Another man appeared right behind him, taller and equally unkempt…but this one had a blunderbuss in his hands which was quite a bit like the one the farmer carried. “John…”

“Rein in your horse, drop back, stay behind me,” John hissed at him. “And if I say run, flick the reins, kick his sides with your heels and don’t stop until you’ve reached the village.” He nudged Sven in front of Marron and drew himself up very straight in the saddle, frowning down at the strangers and absolutely radiating contempt. “Really, gentlemen? It’s broad daylight and everyone knows we’re out here, you must be either desperate or stupid. So which is it, hmm?” The two men looked at each other, obviously unsure of how to answer, and John took advantage of their distraction to make Sven step forward again, which had the effect of making them step back instinctively – and putting them farther away from Adam at the same time. “Well? I’m waiting.”

The taller one shook his head. “We don’t want you, we want him!” He tried to point at Adam but couldn’t due to his position and his companion slapped his hand down. He tried again. “We want the monster!”

John raised an eyebrow. “Monster?”

“The Beast!” The eyebrow stayed up. “He don’t know, Adel.”

“He’s from some foreign place, remember? He wasn’t here then.” Adel grabbed the barrel of his companion’s gun and raised it, pointing it at John. “Just ride away, we’ve got to pay him back for killin’ Gaston.”

“Ah, you mean the ruffian who tried to take the castle and force Lady Belle into marriage with him against her will,” John replied. “Him I know about. And I’m told we’ve no idea if he’s actually dead or not, since they never found a body. So you’re some of his men?”

“We are!” the taller man proclaimed proudly. “We’re goin’ to avenge him, and take your horses and get your gold!” John shook his head at that, and the man scowled and raised the gun a bit more. “You’re sayin’ no?”

John snorted. “I’m saying we don’t actually have any gold with us, is what I’m saying. I have a few pennies in my purse if you absolutely must have something, but why would the prince carry money with him?”

The two men looked at each other again. “Um…because he’s rich?” John shook his head again. “He’s not rich?”

“The money in the treasury doesn’t belong to him, it belongs to the kingdom,” John explained, sounding as though he wasn’t sure why they didn’t already know it. “Gentlemen, you’re wasting my time; I have work to do at the castle, work I must get done if I want to be paid. And as the prince is the one who pays me, obviously I can’t let you have him. Now, was there anything else?”

The taller man gave his companion a helpless look. “This ain’t like you said it was goin’ to be, Adel. You said we’d kill the monster and take the horses and the gold.”

Adel considered this. “Well, we could kill them both and take the horses.”

“But there ain’t no gold! We need a new plan.”

“You can think of one from the gaol,” a new voice said, and a much better-kept man stepped out of the bushes behind them. He also had a gun, and the three men who silently appeared with him had wicked-looking farm implements in their hands. “Your Highness, Mr. Kepperson. Master Beauchard sent us to follow you just in case these idiots were out and about – fancy themselves highwaymen, they do, although luckily for all concerned they aren’t very good at it.”

“No, they don’t seem to be, do they.” John was still between his prince and everyone else. “I take it they’ve been causing problems in the area? I’d suspected something of the sort – either that or wolves, perhaps – when I noticed that Master Beauchard doesn’t go anywhere without his gun.”

“We do have wolves,” one of the other men confirmed. “Good of you to notice that, sir; he was a bit worried you wouldn’t understand. You’ve got wolves in your country?”

“And bears,” John told him. “Although as I understand it you have to be a really good shot to take down a charging bear.”

“You do,” the man with the gun agreed. His gun abruptly targeted Adel, who had made a movement toward his companion’s gun. “I wouldn’t,” he warned. “I’m one who can take down a bear, Adel Roundelette, and you’re quite a bit less than one of those.”

“It was Jaçon’s idea!”

The taller man was immediately offended. “It was not, you liar! You said we’d kill the monster and take the horses and the gold, Adel, you said it!” He appealed to John. “You heard, it was his idea!”

John nodded. “I did hear that, yes. And it’s quite rude of him to try to place the blame on you. You need better friends.”

“I do?” Jaçon looked down at Adel, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re right, I do. A friend shouldn’t lie about ideas that weren’t yours. I need to find one who won’t do that.” He looked around at the farmer’s men with fresh interest. “Maybe one of you?”

One of the men sighed and held out his hand for the gun. “You have to talk to the magistrate first, Jaçon. Now hand it over, you know I can’t let you keep it – Adel’s already tried to take it out of your hands.”

The gun was immediately handed over, and Adel exploded. “You idiot! You don’t do what he says, you’re supposed to do what I say! Why are you so stupid?!”

He lifted his hand, but before he could hit the bigger man – who was already cringing in anticipation – a commanding voice rang out and froze him in mid-blow. “Don’t you dare!”

Adel froze, staring up at his prince. Adam had moved his horse even with John’s again; he was quite obviously furious and looked quite regal and imposing as a result. He gestured to Jaçon, who was also openmouthed and staring. “Move away from him before he tries to hurt you again,” he ordered, and the tall man shuffled back to stand beside the man who’d taken his gun, wide-eyed. “If you’ll promise to walk beside these other men, and not try to get away or cause problems, you won’t need to be tied. Will you promise?”

Jaçon swallowed. “You’d believe me?” Adam indicated that he would, and the man nodded quickly. “I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, Your Highness. I’ll be good.”

“Very well. You though,” he turned a glare on Adel, “you I don’t think I’d believe. Do one of you men have a piece of rope to bind his hands? I believe he’ll try to hurt someone if he’s not secured – he seems to be quite violent.”

“He’d like to be,” the man with the gun agreed, and two of the other men stepped up and roughly tied Adel’s hands together, leaving a piece of rope trailing from the front to pull him along with. “We’ll just take these two into the village, Your Highness…”

“We’ll ride along with you,” Adam told him. “There might be other ‘highwaymen’ about.”

Adel was visibly about to declare that there were quite a lot of them, but Jaçon shook his head. “There’s just us, Your Highness, sir, Adel and me. There was a few others, but they left last month and didn’t come back.”

“They probably couldn’t find their way back,” Adam told him. “There’s still a curse on the kingdom, you know – we can’t put a name to it, so people have a very difficult time finding their way back to it if they leave.” He cocked his head. “I can’t think being a highwayman is a very good job in a kingdom that hasn’t that many travelers passing through. Can’t you do anything else?” The big man shook his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to do?”

That appeared to be a new thought for Jaçon, and he kept thinking about it all the way up the road into the village. Adel was becoming more and more surly, tugging at the rope which led him and casting evil looks at his oblivious companion. Adam didn’t much like that, so by the time they re-entered the village he looked grim enough that the magistrate who came running out paled noticeably. “Your Highness?!”

“Apparently our kingdom has a single highwayman remaining, and he’s attempting to create a new gang to replace the ruffians who left,” Adam told him, indicating Adel. “What would normally be done with him?”

The magistrate swallowed. “We usually lock him up for a few days, Your Highness. Or a bit longer, depending on how upset everyone is.”

“And then they turn him loose again,” the man with the gun added, and shook his head sharply when the magistrate indicated that he should be silent. “Gervais, we’re tired of him, the whole village is tired of him – and this time he not only threatened to kill the prince, he was trying to blame the whole thing on Jaçon.”

“Well what do you expect me to do about it?” the magistrate, Gervais, snapped back. “Hang him? We haven’t sentenced anyone to hang in generations, Claude, and we’re not going to start making grotesque public spectacles of the law again under my watch. And it’s not like I can keep him locked up until he knows right from wrong, because he’d be living in the jail forever. I don’t know what you expect me to do!”

“I may have a solution,” Adam said, and swung down from his horse; John quickly dismounted as well and grabbed Marron’s reins. Adam was just about average height, but he still towered over Adel and between that and the anger radiating off of him the would-be highwayman actually cringed away. “You’re making a nuisance of yourself in my kingdom, and you’re threatening the safety and well-being of my subjects. I won’t have it. We’ve all suffered enough thanks to the bad fairy and her beastly curses, we don’t need this. And I fully agree with our magistrate that turning the public square into a killing ground isn’t something we want here.” He drew himself up to his full height. “Adel Roundelette, I hereby exile you from this kingdom. You’re to be taken to the farthest border of our land and sent on your way.”

A gasp went through the crowd which had formed, and Adel went white. “But…but you said no one can find their way back once they’ve left!”

Adam nodded. “That is what ‘exile’ is all about, yes – it means you don’t ever get to return. If the remaining curse helps us to accomplish that, so be it.”

“What about Jaçon, Your Highness?” another of the farmer’s men asked. The big man was clinging to his arm and nearly in tears. “What’s to happen to him?”

“It’s usually a few days in the gaol for pretending to be a highwayman?” Adam asked the magistrate, who nodded. “I’d say for Jaçon that seems sufficient. It was quite obvious to me that he wasn’t the one who came up with the idea, and he kept his word and walked beside us the whole way here without causing any problems. He did tell Mr. Kepperson he didn’t know how to do anything else, though. Do you have any ideas what should be done about that?”

The magistrate quite obviously didn’t, and there was a lot of head-shaking going around in the crowd of villagers. “Your Highness, I know you can tell he’s simple,” Claude said quietly. “It’s been tried before, but he’s not been able to learn any but the simplest tasks and he requires supervision to do even those.”

“Hmm.” Adam considered that, then looked to John. “Do you have any ideas?”

“I may, yes.” John straightened, smoothing down his jacket. “Jaçon, you’re quite strong, right? You can lift heavy things with ease?” The big man nodded, and puffed up a bit, and he smiled. “You know, Your Highness, the ice house could use him. They’re rather overwhelmed right now, and the ice blocks have had to be made somewhat smaller than is entirely practical. But I think this man could lift a larger one all by himself. It’s honest work, and it shouldn’t be too difficult because the man who runs the ice house would always be there to provide direction where it was needed.”

That was a good idea – and the gathered crowd seemed to think so too, if the amount of nodding was any indication. “Jaçon, do you think that would suit you, working at the ice house?”

“I can do that?”

“Once you’ve done your time in the gaol then yes, I believe you can do that,” Adam told him. “I expect you to be a model citizen of our kingdom from now on, however – no more playing at being a highwayman, understood?”

Jaçon nodded quickly. “I won’t do that anymore, Your Highness, cross my heart and hope to die.”

Adam nodded back. “Very well, then, go with the magistrate now. I’ll expect to hear good things about you in the future.”

“You will?” Adam’s nod actually put tears in the big man’s eyes, and he bowed so low he almost toppled over. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“You’re quite welcome, Jaçon.” The magistrate bowed as well and led Jaçon away, and Adam turned his attention to Master Beauchard’s men. “I hate to impose upon you gentlemen further, but would you be willing to help us escort this man to the kingdom’s border? Mr. Kepperson and I will ride with you, of course. I’m not sure how close you have to get for the nameless curse we’re under to start affecting your sense of direction, but I’m relatively certain it can’t make _me_ forget the way back to the castle.”

That wasn’t entirely the truth – the one Adam didn’t think could get lost was actually John, seeing as how he’d found his way into the kingdom from outside it once already – but he didn’t want to say that and possibly cause people to think the bookkeeper had some kind of curse-defeating magic about him. Luckily the men didn’t question it, and Claude nodded and bowed. “It would be our pleasure, Your Highness. We’re that sick of Adel and his nonsense, we’ll not mind the walk if it means being rid of him for good.”

“I think it might be a bit far to walk,” John commented. “Perhaps someone would be willing to lend a horse…”

Several people were willing, even eager, and within a few minutes Claude and the man who had stood up for Jaçon had mounts and Adele, hands still tied, was placed on the back of one as well so that his exile might not be delayed by slow walking. Of the farmer’s remaining two men, one was dispatched to the castle to let Cogsworth know why his prince would be late getting back, and the other went to give Master Beauchard the same information about his own men. Once everything had been arranged, Adam got back on his horse, extremely thankful now that John had made him practice mounting so many times, and they headed off down the road. “Does this man have a home?” he asked Claude. “I’m willing to let him collect his possessions to travel with.”

“He lives in the back of the old tavern, or so I’ve heard,” Claude told him. “We’ll pass it on the way out, but Brice or I will get his things for him – his ‘friends’ probably took most everything when they left, but I’d not put it past him to have something squirreled away to cause trouble with.”

“He does seem the type, yes.” It didn’t take them long to reach the old tavern which had once been owned by Gaston, and in comparison to the rest of the neat, clean little village its appearance was shocking, with its roof falling in on one side and its chimney starting to lean away from the road at a precarious angle. The door was missing and there were holes where the windows had once been, and on the inside could be glimpsed decaying animal trophies on the walls and a huge, throne-like chair. Adam took it all in with a sort of horrified fascination. The man called Brice went inside and came back out in short order with a dirty bag in his hand and a ferocious scowl on his face. “Been thieving nights since they left, have you?” he accused the sullen outlaw, brandishing the bag as though he wanted to throw it. “Your clothes are all you’re keeping of that, we’ll set the magistrate to sort the rest out later. And then we should probably have the old place knocked down,” he told Adam, much more respectfully. “The floor was near to give way under my boots in places, Your Highness, and I could see a few spots where it was probably Jaçon’s foot that went through it already.”

“We can do that once the magistrate’s done with it,” Adam agreed. “Do you know if anyone else has a claim to the property?”

The men looked at each other, and Brice shrugged. “There’s Florette, one of the…well, she frequented the tavern, let’s put it that way. She swears that boy of hers is the son of Gaston.”

“Gaston never claimed him.”

That made Brice laugh as he got back on his horse. “He never claimed any of them, Claude. He just said it was the job of the strongest and fittest to spread his seed widely, like a lion strengthening the pride with his progeny. He’s probably got bastards all over the valley.”

“Florette is the only one who’s ever kept claiming it, though,” was Claude’s response. “And the only one who he tried to make shut up about it besides. Remember, Brice? The rumor was that he’d told her she’d either stop talking about it or he’d make her stop talking altogether.”

“He sounds a lovely fellow,” John observed. “Is the lady in question still here?”

“She is,” Claude said. “She’s no lady, though, Mr. Kepperson, don’t make any mistake about that. Florette would still be plying her trade if she could find another place to do it in.”

Adam was puzzled and it showed. “Her trade?”

The other two men couldn’t conceal their embarrassment, and even John went a little pink around the ears. “A prostitute, Your Highness,” he explained. “Someone who sells…carnal favors for money.”

The prince was completely gobsmacked by this. “That’s a _trade_?”

“Not an official one,” John corrected quickly. “Nor one that either the practice or the patronage of is considered acceptable…but there are definitely those who do both, and I’m given to understand that in some areas it’s quite prevalent. Large seaports, for example.”

“Arendelle?”

“Wasn’t large enough for that. I’d heard we had a few…practitioners around the area of the docks, but nothing on the scale of say, one of the very large and busy Danish ports where they apparently have whole houses dedicated to that business.”

“It was only done here when Gaston ran the tavern,” Claude hastened to add. “It was a wild, loud place then, and frequented by the kind of ruffians who demand that sort of entertainment. The rest of the village doesn’t hold with those sort of goings-on.”

“I should think not.” Adam was still horrified. “So what does this woman Florette do now?”

“She takes in mending, Your Highness.”

“Better than what she was doing before,” John observed. “I suppose she wanted the child’s father to marry her?”

“Of course.” Claude snorted. “He wouldn’t have liked that idea much. He was always ready to use the service, if you know what I mean, but he thought too much of himself to have married one who provided it.”

Adel spoke up for the first time. “Tell the truth, you wouldn’t either.”

Claude shook his head. “You don’t plant seed in ground you’re not prepared to buy if it takes root – that’s what my old grandfather told me, anyway, and it’s what I’ll tell my sons someday as well.” He raised an eyebrow at the outlaw. “I thought Cosette was pledged to you, Adel. Where did she get to?”

The smaller man scowled, and Brice cleared his throat. “Left with the others, did she?”

“They lied to her, tricked her…!”

“More like they told her the pickings were better outside the kingdom, and offered her gold and pretty baubles if she threw in with them,” Brice observed. “Well, you can track her down now, she may be happy to see you.”

Adel snorted. “Only if I’ve a tavern for her. She wanted a place of her own.”

“So get a tavern and then find her,” Adam said, which seemed to startle the outlaw considerably. “What? The idea of building something rather than taking it is that strange to you?”

The outlaw sneered. “You’re one to talk.” Claude leaned over and smacked him sharply. “Hey!”

“Keep that ignorant tongue respectful or carry it away in your pocket.”

“I don’t have to!”

“You don’t have to ride, either,” John pointed out, and Adam noticed with surprise that his bookkeeper was looking more than a little angry, which made him look a bit imposing himself. “Would you prefer to be dragged behind the horses?” Adel’s answer to that was to slump and drop his head, visibly sulking, and John sniffed. “I didn’t think so.”

Adam held back the smile that wanted to come out; that had been Cogsworth’s sniff. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said, deciding the best thing to do was to just act like the outburst hadn’t happened at all. “If the woman wants someone who will give her a place of her own, then why not get one and give it to her?”

“It isn’t that easy.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Well of course it isn’t. But if you want her, isn’t she worth it being difficult?”

The outlaw went still. He turned a penetrating dark gaze up to Adam, a look that was questioning, probing…and then abruptly looked away again, frowning down at his bound hands, and did not speak again until they reached their destination. Claude and Brice took him off the horse and untied him then, handing him the small bag of his possessions. Adam and John had also dismounted, and Adel turned to his prince and looked him in the eye. “Florette’s boy is the son of Gaston. He’d admitted as much, more than once.”

Adam nodded slowly. “Then the land is hers, in trust for the boy.”

“As it should be.” Adele hitched his bag up over his shoulder, turned, and walked away from them down the road. When he reached the bend where the road curved around a small hill to the west he hesitated a step, and they saw him shake his head, putting a hand to his temple in a way that looked all too familiar to Adam and John…but he kept walking and soon was out of view.


	8. A Box of Apples

The tax problem was well-settled, written notices had been hand-delivered to everyone who was to begin paying what was owed on their properties back to the kingdom, and a more general notice had been sent out about the new schedule on which the taxes were to be paid. A few people had not been happy, of course, but for the most part the subjects of Adam’s pretty but nameless kingdom had formed a very favorable impression of their heretofore seldom-seen prince. An impression colored with a healthy amount of reluctance to make him angry, but as this stemmed from them having actually seen him get angry rather than just fearing him on general principles, John and Cogsworth had convinced Adam that it was a good thing and nothing he should worry about. And the village’s opinion of their prince only increased when Florette, the mother of Gaston’s son, was given possession of the presumed-dead hunter’s land – land which had been cleared and was now occupied by a small but sturdy cottage suitable for the young woman and her son to live in. Not to mention that Jaçon had ended up doing very well at the ice house, which success was universally attributed to John as well as Adam although John was not fully aware of that fact.

In truth, once everything had been set in order for the coming of the next quarterly tax, John had been consumed with a different project – one he didn’t dare share with anyone else in the castle – which he felt required completion sooner rather than later. He worked on it diligently, and then once it was complete he had to figure out how to implement it without the curse striking him dead. He finally came up with something, but it ended up being a very near thing in spite of the precautions he’d taken. He was still holding his aching head in his hands when Adam came into the office that afternoon and at once guessed at what had happened. “John, you _didn’t_ …”

John shook his head, gingerly. “I had to…I had to secure the apple-shaped rubies, Your Highness. Their value is pretty much incalculable at this point and they shouldn’t be mixed in with the other contents of the treasury. So until we can find out more about them, I made a box and put them in it for…for safekeeping.” He sucked in a breath. “It’s…marked, so if someone is specifically looking for the rubies they shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“And we won’t have any trouble going into the treasury?” Adam guessed, and received another very delicate nod in response. “I take it you thought that was going to become a problem?”

“It…already was. I had them piled on one end of the counting table, they were the first thing I saw every time I walked in.”

Adam was frowning. “So why didn’t you just have someone else pack them up rather than risking yourself – which I believe I did tell you not to do?”

His tone had been more than a little sharp, so he was surprised when John offered him a wan, apologetic smile. “By law, Your Highness, only you and I are allowed into the treasury.”

“Oh bother.” Adam dropped into his usual chair, frown becoming a scowl. “It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it?”

“Usually, yes.” John sat back in his chair; he didn’t have his glasses on, and his brown eyes were bloodshot, red-rimmed and slightly unfocused. “But that’s one we won’t have to think about now – and no one else will be able to just stumble upon it, either.”

“Point. I still don’t like it that you risked yourself.”

John just blinked at him. “It was either me or you, Your Highness – and I’m replaceable, you’re not.”

The scowl came back. “I don’t like that.”

“Good.” John picked up the mug that was sitting on the desk and took a cautious sip, making a face at the bitterness of the now-cold tea. “If you didn’t care about it, you’d be a horrible ruler – a horrible person, in fact.” Adam’s blue eyes narrowed, and John put the tea back down with another sigh. “Princess Elsa’s grandfather was an excellent ruler, from what my father told me. And according to our histories, we’d had good rulers for generation upon generation before him, all the way back to the days when the kingdom was founded by the captain of a ship which took shelter in the bay and discovered that it would make an excellent protected harbor. Good rulers are men like you, Prince Adam, men who care about their people – experience isn’t what matters most, intentions are. Do you think I’d still have the princess here if you weren’t a good example for her? If you were…well, anything like I’ve been given to understand her parents were, we’d have ridden back out just as soon as I’d gotten your books back in order.”

Adam just stared at him, the candidly spoken words echoing in his ears. And perhaps a bit deeper than that, although it was a sensation he wasn’t sure how to describe and wouldn’t have tried to as it felt so very…personal. He blinked and shook his head. “I…John, I don’t know what to say.”

John shrugged. “Say ‘thank you’, like any man does when he receives a compliment. A simple response is always preferable, and less likely to be misunderstood.”

“Thank you, then.” Adam considered the situation, aware for the first time…well, ever, of the idea that the loyalty his servants afforded him might not just be because of his lineage. It had simply never occurred to him that they might actually respect and care for him as a person, not merely tolerate him as a hereditary nuisance. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t thought of himself that way, in fact. And of course the current problem with Belle wasn’t doing anything to dispel that mindset, even though she’d been less dissatisfied with everything since she’d taken charge of Princess Elsa. Belle tended to be happiest when she had a project to work on; Adam knew this quite well, as he’d been her last one.

He didn’t realize that he’d wandered off in his own thoughts until the side door opening startled him out of them and Elsa stuck her head in. “John, are you…oh, Adam! I was just seeing if John was busy, I wanted to ask him a question.”

“He’s not busy,” Adam assured her. “In fact, I’m about to make him go up to bed. He’s not feeling well.”

“I’m…” Adam raised a dark blond eyebrow, and John sighed and slumped back in the chair. “Yes of course, Your Highness. What did you want to ask me, Princess?”

Elsa glided around the side of the chair, frowning down at him. “I was going to ask you about something I saw in a book Belle gave me to read, but now I’m going to ask you why you were doing something with the curse when you’ve been told not to.”

“He had to, Elsa,” Adam put in before his shocked bookkeeper could say anything; her tone had been more than a little scolding – she’d sounded quite like Mrs. Potts, in fact. “It was something only he could do, because of the way the rules for the royal treasury are set up. I am rather upset that he didn’t tell me what was going on, but I understand why he felt he couldn’t.”

Her expression said that wasn’t quite a good enough answer, and John shook his head – which made him wince, which had the effect of making her frown deepen. “You aren’t supposed to allow your ruler to come to harm if you can at all prevent it, sweetheart,” he told her. “That’s what it means to be in service to someone, it means you give them your loyalty and you do everything in your power to protect them.”

Adam was relatively certain John would not have put it quite that way when speaking to his princess if he’d been capable of clear thought right then, and he moved quickly to head off that new train of thought before Elsa could start wondering what that meant about John’s loyalty to her personally. “He’s been trotting out all kinds of startling statements like that – I believe his head is hurting so much just now that he can’t think clearly, so he’s speaking much more freely than he normally would. I’m about to send him to his room to sleep it off.”

John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That isn’t necessary, really. The pain does go away after a time, you know it does.”

Elsa asked before Adam could. “How long has it been this time?”

To Adam’s surprise, the question seemed to startle the bookkeeper, who squinted at the light coming in through the window and then frowned at the mug of cold tea sitting on his desk. “I…I’m not sure, really. I just made my way back in here when I was done. I knew it would wear off eventually, and I have other things I need to do today.”

The prince considered that, then stood up. “Elsa, please fetch Lumiere for me, if you would. I may need his help getting John safely upstairs – we don’t dare let him try them on his own, he might fall.”

That got him a scowl from John. “I would not…”

“You might.” Elsa took hold of John’s arm and pulled, making him stand up. “Go to bed, John. I can ask you my question tomorrow – or I can ask Adam, he might know.”

“If I don’t, we’ll ask Cogsworth,” Adam agreed. “Now come along, John, before I decide we need Mrs. Potts to make this party complete.”

As he’d expected, the mention of sending for Mrs. Potts caused John no little alarm, and he stopped putting up any resistance at all to being made to leave his office. Elsa all but ran to find Lumiere, who ended up meeting them at the foot of the stairs. “Ze princess, she said some assistance would be appreciated?”

“I’m making sure he doesn’t lose his balance on the stairs, his head is hurting just that badly right now,” Adam told him. “He was finishing up something to do with the treasury and it ran him afoul of the curse.”

“Ah, so zat is what you have been doing all this month,” Lumiere told John, who winced, this time not from the pain in his head. The butler smiled. “I did not think you had told His Highness all of it. He has been working on it in small doses,” he explained before Adam could say anything. “Verry carefully, from what I could tell. It is finished now?”

“Finally, yes.” John started to nod, stopped himself. “It’s…rather difficult to…create something while trying not to think about it at the same time, you know.” He nearly missed a step, raised a hand to his head. “Ow.”

Adam huffed and put his arm around the smaller man’s waist, making sure he wouldn’t fall; he thought it said something that John didn’t seem to notice the extra support. “Still thinking it’s better you than me?”

The emphatic nod surprised him, although it probably shouldn’t have. “I wouldn’t wish this headache on anyone, honestly. Well, except maybe the Chief Councilor of Arendelle, he deserves this and all the more anyone could give him.”

Much as Adam would have loved to pursue _that_ comment – and he could tell Lumiere would as well – he realized now was not the best time. Elsa might turn up again at any moment, and they’d already had one close call from that direction. So instead he just made an agreeable noise and kept going until they had reached John’s room. The bookkeeper went to bed without further protest and was asleep even before they could close the door behind them, by which time even Lumiere was frowning. “I would say perhaps we should send for the Royal Physician, but we do not have one since the curse it first struck.”

Adam made a face. The Royal Physician had been off visiting his sister when the curse had fallen and most likely was still there, unable to remember where it was he’d originally come from. “Even if we did have one, I doubt there would be much he could do – this is magic, not an illness. Since the effect usually passes on its own, though, I would expect he’ll be fine by the time he wakes up.”

“Most likely,” Lumiere agreed. “I will come up and check on him later, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Lumiere, I’d appreciate that.” Cogsworth came bustling up, meeting them on the stairs. “He’s fine, he’s sleeping it off. It was something he had to attend to that had to do with the curse.”

The older man huffed. “Oh, that. Did he finally get it finished, or should I wait outside the treasury door next time to be sure he makes it back out?”

The prince stopped dead on the landing. “Did everyone know about this except me?!”

Cogsworth shrugged. “Only Lumiere and I, Your Highness. Young John was commendably careful.”

“I’m not sure I want to call that commendable,” Adam did not quite snap back. “It may well be, but it’s not a behavior I want to encourage. Just because I’m your prince shouldn’t mean my life has more value than any of yours, that’s…” He threw his hands in the air, frustrated. “It’s just _wrong_ , Cogsworth. It’s wrong. I don’t want someone’s loyalty to me to lead to…well, situations like this! Or the one last month with the outlaw Adel, where John put himself between me and the business end of a blunderbuss and told me to run if something happened.”

Lumiere and Cogsworth exchanged a look Adam didn’t understand. “It iz good you do not want it, but zat will not stop it from happening, my prince,” the butler told him, then bowed. He almost seemed to have tears in his eyes. “I must get back to ze kitchen, there are…things I must do.”

He hurried off, leaving a mystified prince behind him as well as a steward who was also inexplicably swiping at his eyes. “Cogsworth, what…”

The older man shook his head, sniffing just a little. “That was just…unexpected, Your Highness, although I dare say it shouldn’t have been. But to hear you say it like that, to know you came to that opinion all on your own…”

“I don’t understand.”

Cogsworth sighed, shaking his head again. “This is a discussion we’ve perhaps put off a little too long, I suppose – but one which definitely shouldn’t take place on the stairs. If you’ll come with me, I’ll try to explain.”

“About what?”

“About your father, Prince Adam. And…other things.” They went back downstairs to Cogsworth’s own comfortable office, closing the door behind them. Cogsworth moved to stand in front of the fire, his hands clasped behind his back, looking thoughtful. “I’m not sure where to begin, except to say that none of us were sure we ever wanted to tell you…well, certain things.”

“About my father.”

“About your father.” The steward looked him in the eye. “There’s no easy way to say this, Prince Adam, but King Hector wasn’t a good king. He wasn’t a tyrant or cruel or anything like that, he just simply didn’t care about running the kingdom. Or staying in it most of the time, for that matter – a great traveler, your father, although his travels were entirely for his own amusement and he never brought back anything from them except your mother.” That startled Adam considerably, and Cogsworth did not quite smile. “Possibly I could have worded that better, but it is the truth. He just came riding back into the kingdom with her one day, the youngest daughter of some Northern king, I believe. I wasn’t the steward then, of course, old Monsieur Tremblay was, and the old man was reportedly none too amused to be presented with a new queen out of nowhere and told to arrange a wedding at once. They can’t be, you know,” he explained. “Weddings require a good deal of planning, and royal weddings at least double that. Tremblay managed it, though, and he had hopes your father would settle down to run things after that…but he didn’t, and just so soon as the queen had recovered from having you he was off again and took her with him. The second time it happened Tremblay left, just took a horse and rode down the mountain and never came back, and after that I was in charge. Of the staff and the castle and most of the running of the kingdom. And of seeing that you were raised properly, as your parents were rarely here. And that’s why hearing you upstairs just now was such a wondrous thing, Your Highness. Because a good king doesn’t want his people to die for him, but that’s not an attitude one can teach, if you understand what I’m saying – it’s something you’re supposed to learn by example, except even if your father had been here he’d not have set that kind of example for you to learn from, believe me, and your mother most definitely would have told you just the opposite. So for you to come to that realization all on your own…” He swiped at his eyes. “It’s just a wondrous thing, Your Highness. A wondrous, marvelous thing, and a fine sign for the future of our kingdom.”

Realization had dawned. “You’re proud of me.”

“Very. As is Lumiere, and Mrs. Potts as well. We did our best to teach you what we could…but it was you who took it the rest of the way, and decided what kind of man you were going to be. And that even after growing up in a way that was, shall we say, less than optimal.” Cogsworth shook his head. “The crown doesn’t matter, Prince Adam. It’s a hunk of metal, it means nothing save as a way for people to tell who the king is at a distance. But the man you are…that’s what makes a ruler good or bad or indifferent, do you understand?”

“I…I believe so.” Adam considered that, aware that considering it felt like a weight had been placed on him, although he wasn’t sure why. “So my parents were…”

“I never understood them, Your Highness. Nor did anyone else here. We were loyal to the kingdom during your father’s reign, not to the man himself.”

Adam nodded slowly. “Thank you, Cogsworth. What you’ve told me does explain…a lot of things I’d been wondering about. I think I’ll go ride for a while now, unless there’s something else I need to be doing.”

“Not a thing today, Your Highness,” the steward assured him. He waited until his prince had left the room, then sank into the nearest chair, frowning into the fire. There were more things he could have told his prince, of course, but he truly didn’t want to. Because how do you tell a boy that the fairy who cursed him had been paying secretive visits to his parents before it happened? Or that you suspect those selfsame parents had less ‘disappeared’ than just left without planning to come back?


	9. An Uncommon Christmas

The snow was thick upon the ground by the time Christmas rolled around, making travel between castle and village a somewhat difficult proposition as the horses had no sooner dragged the road clear than a new storm would roll in and bury it again. Despite the weather, though, both village and castle were extensively decked-out for the holiday and a good deal of traffic was going up and down the road. Mrs. Potts had very definite ideas about what was proper and necessary for a royal Christmas celebration, and Cogsworth rather surprisingly was equally definite on the subject himself. And after confirming that this was the way they always celebrated and not an ill-considered reaction to having a full treasury, John allowed for the steady stream of holiday-related entries in the books by putting them on a separate sheet that they might be added as a group later and thus kept separate from the daily accounts.

If John was somewhat surprised by the size and exuberance of the planned celebration, he kept that to himself. He was aware of Christmas as a holiday, of course, and he had a vague idea that people celebrated it with their families and that it involved a lot of food and drink and merriment being shared, but his father had never taken part in any such celebration so neither had he. John was also aware that some made it a custom to give gifts at Christmas – Princess Anna had always left one at her sister’s door, for example – and had overheard enough to know that the custom was generally practiced by the staff in his current location. Which had presented him with something of a conundrum. He knew what Prince Adam and Lady Belle were giving everyone because he’d had to write that expense down on his list, and he had already obtained a present for his princess, wanting to make up for the absence of the one her sister would not be there to give her. When it came to giving gifts of his own to everyone else, though, he was at a loss. The books couldn’t tell him anything about what the other servants did as those were personal expenses which didn’t go in the royal ledger, and he rather cringed away from the idea of asking anyone.

Or at least he did, until Princess Elsa came to him in a very upset state of mind caused by that very same conundrum. The only thing she knew about Christmas was the very personal and often handmade gift she’d always gotten from Anna, which had usually been bundled up in a handkerchief tied with a hair ribbon. John had given her a hug, ignoring the frost that whitened the edges of his jacket, and offered what reassurance he could. “It’s all right, Princess, it’s all right. I don’t know anything about all of this either, in fact I was just trying to figure out how to get more information about it without offending anyone – they’re all so excited.”

Elsa sniffed into his shoulder. “I would have asked Belle, but she’s planning a party. I don’t like parties.”

“That…event you ran away from in Arendelle wasn’t a party, sweetheart,” John assured her, patting her back. “And what little I already know about Lady Belle’s party from the accounts tells me it isn’t going to be very big. It won’t be frightening, I promise.”

Another sniff. “And people keep talking about presents.”

“Yes, the people here give each other presents for Christmas,” he confirmed. “I believe most of them are small things, probably handmade…” An idea struck him and he tightened the hug briefly before pushing her back so he could look her in the eye. “Princess, I think I know what we can do. How would you like to come do a little bit of shopping with me down in the village?”

“I don’t have any money.”

“No, but I do, and we’re not going to need very much. Remember how your sister used to make your gifts? That’s what we’re going to do, we’re going to make some things.”

She pouted. “I make things out of ice all the time, that’s not a present. Presents are supposed to be special.”

“I’m going to show you how to make something special,” John assured her. “Think, Princess: You can shape and freeze things that aren’t ice. Now run get your cloak and boots and I’ll go saddle Sven, we’ll have to hurry if we’re going to get to the village and back before the next storm hits.”

That got him another hug, this time minus both tears and frost, and she ran to get her cloak. John quickly checked the contents of his purse, determining that there should be just enough for what he needed to do, and then threw on his own cloak and hurried out to the stables, letting Lumiere know when he passed him that he was taking the princess down to the village to ‘finish her Christmas shopping,’ a phrase he’d been hearing other people use over the past few weeks. And which might have passed without notice had Elsa not come dancing through some five minutes later and very excitedly told the butler that John had ‘figured out what to do about Christmas’ as neither of them really understood it.

Lumiere returned the happy hug and told her of course John had, then went to get into his medicinal stash of sherry before going to let Cogsworth know that they’d forgotten something again.

 

Christmas morning dawned rather bleakly snowy – there was in fact quite the storm raging outside the castle – but inside everything was light and color and people bustling to and fro. Some of the staff were down in the village with their families, the rest were happily getting ready for the day’s festivities and exchanging presents. Elsa had left hers on each person’s breakfast plate the night before, with the cook’s permission of course; beautiful crystalline butterflies made from the sack of violet sugar John had gotten from the village baker and melted in a pot held over the fire in his office. She’d also made Belle a bag of exquisitely tiny sugar roses to use in her tea, and Adam was to receive a similar bag only his were tiny horses which bore a distinct resemblance to Cauchemar.

Elsa had actually felt a little sad coming out of her bedroom that morning, because she’d known there wouldn’t be a present from Anna waiting outside her door. And so she’d been completely surprised to find a present there where one hadn’t been expected, a small package done up in plain paper but tied with a blue silk ribbon. It couldn’t be from Anna – her sister was still back in Arendelle, after all – so it had to be from someone else. John, maybe? John knew about the present Anna had always left at her door on Christmas morning, it would be like him to remember that there needed to be a present and put one there for her. She took the package back into her room and untied the ribbon, unwrapping the paper – which was yet more proof that it had been John, because it was the same kind of pretty golden-hued paper he’d bought to make his own Christmas presents out of – to reveal a small box. And inside the box was a pendant, silver filigree in the shape of a snowflake holding a prettily polished white stone. Elsa lifted it out of the box and found it connected to a white velvet neck ribbon which had a silver snowflake clasp. It was a very dainty, pretty piece of jewelry, and once she’d put it on she was quite happy with the way it looked around her neck. She’d never had jewelry of her own before except for her crown, and after admiring and further inspecting the pendant in the mirror she decided that it had most likely been made just for her.

That thought made her feel quite warm inside, and as she was still looking in the mirror the expression she saw on her own face rather startled her. It was happy, definitely happy, but something else as well. Something…different. Elsa considered that for a moment, and then put it aside for later consideration. Today was Christmas and there were many things to do; she could wonder about confusing things later that night when she went to bed.

At the bottom of the stairs she ran into Adam, who dutifully admired the necklace and then sent her to fetch Belle down to breakfast while he went to get John for the same purpose. He had a rather determined look on his face about that, in fact, which was another thing Elsa set aside to wonder about later.

Adam, for his part, had already been to the kitchen and had received a rather alarming report from Annette about John – namely that John seemed to think he was spending Christmas Day in his office and had taken several apples and a biscuit in, along with some extra tea, to do for himself over the course of the day. Coming in the door showed Adam that this was indeed the case, as his bookkeeper had these items neatly arranged on the table by the window. John looked rather more than surprised to see him there, and quickly stood up. “Your Highness, is something the matter?”

The prince waved a hand at the desk, where the ledger was open as it was every day when John was working. “What are you doing?”

“The holiday accounts. Christmas is the day when we do them.”

“In Arendelle.”

John looked rather puzzled by this. “In Arendelle, yes – and I’d assume everywhere else as well. You haven’t had a bookkeeper here in quite a long time, I know, but…”

“No, there’s no but about it,” Adam told him. “And no, not everywhere else.” He raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re better off not being in Arendelle, John, you and your princess both. Now close that up and come on, if we’re late to breakfast Mrs. Potts will kill us, and we have to eat well anyway because we won’t be getting anything else until dinner.” He indicated the apples. “I’ll be wanting one of those around lunchtime, so we’ll just leave them here.”

John had gone from puzzled to dumbfounded. “I…you mean, we’re all eating breakfast together?”

“And dinner as well, and being a party this evening, yes – it’s Christmas and there aren’t that many of us, it would be silly not to celebrate together.”

“Point,” John agreed. “You’re sure?”

He sounded so worried about it that Adam stopped being irritated – or rather he didn’t, but he wasn’t irritated at John anymore so he tucked the feeling away to indulge in later. “Of course I’m sure. The servants have always included me in their celebration, as I was usually the only member of the royal family here. And after the curse was removed we just kept doing it that way because it only made sense.” He made sure the ribbon marker was in the ledger and closed it, then drew John out from behind the desk. “Now come on, I want breakfast.”

 

The Christmas breakfast was noisy and cheerful, and there was much oohing and aahing over the sugar butterflies as no one had ever seen anything quite like them before. Adam and Belle had left a chit for the village shoemaker under each plate, Cogsworth had gifted each person with a rich bonbon wrapped in a square of fine sugared paper, Lumiere and Annette had placed a sweet-smelling nosegay of dried herbs and flowers in every cup, and Mrs. Potts had hung a pair of mittens or a knitted scarf on the back of each chair. Like hers, John’s gifts had been of a practical nature; he’d made each person a small notebook with a cleverly folded paper cover, the leaves of which were sewn together in a way that left a long tail on either side for tying the notebook shut.

John had meant to return to the books after breakfast, but had instead ended up pressed into service with Adam to help finish readying everything for the festivities that evening. They hung more swags and garlands of fresh evergreen branches with Lumiere, put decorations on a large tree in the ballroom with Cogsworth, ferried in endless armloads of firewood for the kitchen, and hauled things up and down stairs and in and out of the cellar until they were both tired – at which point Mrs. Potts had Elsa chase them both upstairs to get cleaned up and dressed for the party. On coming back down they were put in charge of entertaining Lumiere and Annette’s son while the child’s nurse got ready for dinner herself; neither man was entirely sure what to do with the one-year-old baby except for not letting him crawl into the fire or eat stray fir needles, so they ended up taking him into John’s office, giving him a sliver of apple and then showing him how to make marks on a piece of foolscap with a pencil. The baby quite enjoyed this, clapping his chubby hands and demanding pictures of seemingly every word in his thankfully limited vocabulary, and finally fell asleep on John’s lap while Adam was attempting to draw a horse for him. John was not entirely sure what to think about this at first, the small trusting weight of the sleeping child in his arms giving him a wholly unfamiliar feeling of contentment, but as he was rather stuck where he was he decided not to worry about it and amused himself by encouraging Adam to make increasingly ridiculous additions to the already not very accurate picture of the horse and the other things they’d drawn.

He did not know that the expression on his face was an unusual one for him and Adam didn’t either, so when Annette came to reclaim her child with Elsa right behind her neither man understood why the two women reacted as though they’d seen something surprising. “Didn’t you think we could take care of him?” Adam asked. “We gave him some apple and then he had us drawing pictures for him, and then he fell asleep.”

Annette had to smile. “Zat was exactly right, Your Highness,” she assured him, sweeping around the desk and patting the baby’s rosy cheek. “Wake up ma petit, Mama iz here for you.”

The baby woke up with a pretty little yawn and then squealed with excitement when he saw her, which made John laugh. “Yes, Mama knows better what to do with you than we do, I’m sure,” he said, handing the baby over. “Are we needed for something else now?”

Elsa recovered herself – she was pushing aside so many confusing thoughts and feelings today! – and nodded emphatically. “Mrs. Potts wants you both to come help carry plates out to the hall, and then she said she’d be done with you until after supper.”

“Which I’m sure is when we’ll be carrying those same plates back to the kitchen,” Adam observed, standing up and stretching; John did as well. “What does she have you doing, Elsa?”

“Going up to get dressed as soon as I’ve chased you both out of the office,” she told him, which made them both laugh and quickly move to follow her out the door. She hesitated before leaving them, though, and then all at once threw herself at John to hug him. “I love my present, thank you so much for remembering.”

If the bookkeeper’s brown eyes behind his glasses grew a little misty, only Adam saw it. “Oh sweetheart, you’re welcome. It’s your first Christmas away from home, I wanted to have something special for you.”

“It is. I love it.” She pulled back, blushing. “I don’t have anything for you.”

“You made me a butterfly,” he reminded her. “And I helped you eat all the ones we broke, remember? You even made apple snow and we ate it with those little cakes the baker gave you – that was very special to me.”

That got him another hug, and then she was hurrying off to get dressed and Adam kept the very startling new thought he’d just had to himself as he and John quickly made their own way to the kitchen before Mrs. Potts could start yelling for them. Because the look he’d just been seeing on the princess’s face had _not_ been the expression of a happy child…but more the look of a very pleased woman.

 

The Christmas feast and the party afterward were a very jolly experience for everyone involved, even to the cleanup which everyone also had to pitch in to help with, which meant it was quite late before John finally made it back to his office. The following morning he slept rather longer than he normally would have because of that and was quite startled to wake to find Adam in his room. “What…”

Adam was looking irritated again. “Were you really up all night doing the books, John?”

John rubbed his eyes. “The holiday expenses have to be done on Christmas Day, I told you – they have to be done by midnight. I got them done in time, but just barely.”

“So it’s a tradition.”

John shrugged, reaching for his glasses. “It’s the way my father taught me, which is the way we’d always done it.”

“That would be a tradition, yes.” Adam personally thought it was a very sad, strange tradition, but he didn’t say so. “Well, I hope you’ve slept enough, because it’s time to come down to breakfast or Belle will be upset.”

John stretched and got out of bed, pulling up the bedclothes before stumbling over to get his pants. “Is she waiting? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“So you didn’t have Boxing Day in Arendelle either, I take it?”

“Boxing Day?”

“And that’s a no. Well, today is going to be quite the wonder for you, then.” He moved in and got John’s shirt, holding it out to help him put it on. “The day after Christmas is Boxing Day, which is the day all the servants have off and we do for them instead of the other way around. So Belle has made breakfast, I get to wake everyone, and Elsa is pretending to be Annette. Oh, and Lumiere is king for the day, because Cogsworth had it last year.”

“And you do this every year?”

“The way I always understood it, everyone does it every year.” Adam helped him on with his boots. “It’s rather fun, and the way they always explained it to me when I was young was that it also helps those in charge remember what it’s like to not be.”

“So a learning experience.” John seemed to like that idea. “Princess Elsa is pretending to be Annette?”

“Elsa was having so much fun with Annette’s feather duster that Annette swore she was going to get her one for her very own – and do watch out, she discovered that the feathers tickle.”

“The princess does like to tickle,” John told him, going to wash his face in the basin, which had been filled with fresh water. “She got me a few times when we were first starting out on our way here, Sven was not happy about the way I jumped.” He dried his face and put his glasses back on, then quickly combed his hair and tied it back with a braided twist of brown leather. “All right, I suppose I’m ready.”

“You look ready enough,” Adam approved. “Cogsworth is downstairs in his dressing gown and slippers, so you’re a good deal more dressed than he is. Now come on, Belle really does get cranky if the food gets cold.”

John went down the stairs with him – or rather in front of him, as Adam dropped back a step the way Lumiere would have done – and made his way into the dining hall when Adam steered him away from the kitchen. Most everyone else was already there, and John murmured an apology which Lumiere waved off from the head of the table. “You were up late last night, John; we did not expect you to get up early.”

John responded to this with a bow, and gave one to Annette as well where she was sitting in Belle’s usual place. He took a seat by Cogsworth, who was indeed wearing his dressing gown and who pushed the pot of tea down towards him; Adam intercepted the pot and poured the tea for John, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes when John did not seem to know what to think about that; even on a regular day, John had the habit of serving himself and rarely asked anything of the other servants. “I’ll just be getting more tea, this pot is nearly empty,” Adam told Lumiere. “Has Belle been out yet?”

“Yes, and she’s grumbling, dear,” Mrs. Potts told him. She wasn’t wearing her ever-present apron or her cap, and John had to think that the blue dress she had on was quite becoming. “You’d best go see what she needs.”

“She needed John to come down,” Cogsworth said placidly; he seemed amused. “Best hurry, Your Highness.”

“I should have chosen to be Mr. Fabron for the day,” Adam observed, making a face. “Grooming Cauchemar is looking a very pleasant occupation just now. Is he…”

“Mozt likely mucking out while ze stableboys watch? Yes, I am sure he is.” Lumiere waved him toward the kitchen. “Ze longer you wait, ze worse it will be.” Adam trudged off into the kitchen, taking the teapot with him, and the butler-turned-king winked at John. “Do not worry, ze Lady Belle will only yell at him a little.”

“She’s quite impatient when she’s in the kitchen,” Mrs. Potts observed, sipping her own tea.

John added sugar to his – he normally didn’t, but it was there so he took some and settled in to see how the situation played out. Everyone was looking very relaxed and amused, and he was rather unsure of how he should conduct himself. “Relax, John,” Cogsworth told him. “It’s just for the day, and it’s good fun. Why, your princess is having so much fun Lady Belle almost took the feather duster away from her.”

John had to laugh. “So I heard. I’d never thought to warn anyone that she likes to tickle.”

“It’s good she’s playful, that means she’s happy,” Mrs. Potts told him. “She’s such a sweet child.”

John decided to try to make conversation. “Have you had a letter from Chip, Mrs. Potts?”

She beamed at him. “I have! He’s liking the apprenticeship my sister found for him, they’ve got him working with the groundskeeper and he’s apparently quite good with the dogs. And my sister sent a letter saying I’d not believe how much he’s grown, he’s nearly as tall as she is now. She said she’d send him for a visit in the spring if she could be sure of him finding his way here.”

That was a problem, of course; since the kingdom had no name, finding it could be rather difficult. Even Master Beauchard had told John that some people were never able to find their way back to the village after leaving it. If only they had some clue as to how to bring about the end of that part of the curse! The thought made him wince, and Cogsworth smacked him on the arm. “Stop that, no thinking about the curse,” he scolded mildly. “I agree with what you and the prince decided earlier this year, it’s probable that none of us here can do anything about it, we’re likely waiting for someone else to get involved. So, we’ll wait.”

John sighed and raised his cup to the older man. “We’ll wait,” he echoed, essaying a slight smile. “I’ll not like doing it, though.”

“Of course not, you’re a young man and young men are all about action,” Cogsworth told him. “Once you’re our age,” he indicated himself and Lumiere, “you’ll go at a slower pace.”

“I think this is the slowest pace I’ve ever seen you go at, Cogsworth,” John ventured, and was pleased and relieved when that made the steward laugh. “Very handsome dressing gown, by the way.”

“Why thank you. I’m quite fond of it.”

 

Breakfast ended up being a very leisurely affair, and very generously served as well; just like on Christmas Day, there wasn’t to be another meal served until dinnertime. So John ate well and took his time the way everyone else was doing, and afterwards would have headed back to his office but this time Cogsworth and Lumiere got in his way. “No, no work today,” the ‘king’ informed him. “Come along, we are going to ze study, you will come too.”

John sighed but went with them. “Are Mrs. Potts and Annette joining us there?”

Cogsworth snorted. “No, they’ll have retired to one of the sitting rooms to do fancy-work and gossip – which is exactly what we’re going to do, of course, just minus the fancy-work. Unless you’re feeling like embroidery today, Anton?”

Lumiere laughed. “No, not today. Were you feeling like doing ze mending, Andrew?”

Cogsworth snorted again. ‘I quite like not having to sew on my own buttons, thank you very much. Although young John here seems to be in good practice with his needle – those little books yesterday, that was a clever bit of needlework.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” John had actually been quite a bit worried that the little notebooks he’d made wouldn’t be up to par for gifts, so the compliment relieved him. “It’s something the steward in Arendelle taught me to do, it was how he made tally books to use when he and the butler did the shopping.” He covered a yawn with his hand. “There’s…a page in the center that folds out, it’s like a pocket you can keep the money in.”

They’d reached Cogsworth’s comfortable study, and the steward immediately went to his desk where the little book was laying and had a look at the center, folding it open and closed in astonishment. “My goodness, that’s a useful thing, isn’t it? You’ll have to show me how you did it sometime, John. Have you ever thought of making the outer cover of leather, to protect the inner pages?”

John nodded, taking the chair nearer the fire because Lumiere already had the one nearest the desk. “I’d have done it this time, but I couldn’t find the right leather – it needs to be thin for that.” Not to mention leather cost rather more than he could have afforded, but he wasn’t going to mention that. He covered another yawn. “My apologies. If you have some old leather lying about, though, I can make you a cover out of it. I covered one of mine with part of an old hat once. It was wool, not leather, but it did very well for keeping the odd splash that got inside my cloak off the pages.”

“I’ve probably got an old jerkin somewhere.” Cogsworth had stretched back out, putting his slippered feet up on a conveniently-placed footstool. He patted the rounded front of his dressing gown. “Being able to eat again hasn’t done me any favors so far as my wardrobe is concerned.”

Lumiere snorted this time. “Do not listen to him,” he told John. “He was even round as a clock.”

Cogsworth did not appear to take issue with this; he laughed. “Yes, but as a clock I didn’t need to worry about outgrowing my clothes and having Mrs. Potts scold me for taking seconds at supper.”

This time there was no answer from John, who had fallen asleep in the chair. Lumiere rang the bell for Adam, who smiled and shook his head when he saw his bookkeeper. “He said the holiday accounts had to be done by midnight on Christmas Day, so he stayed up and did them. He thought everyone did it that way.”

Cogsworth shrugged. “Perhaps where he’s from everyone does,” he allowed. “Or at least everyone he’s ever known to do such things, anyway. Arendelle has most of her contact with others by way of her harbor, I believe; she’s rather cut off by the mountains from other kingdoms on land.” Adam looked surprised to hear this, and the older man smiled and stretched to reach down a map. “You’ll want to be impressed by this, I think,” he said, spreading the map out on the desk. “This is an old map of this whole part of the country, it was made for couriers’ use. Young John here must have rescued his princess by using one of the routes that wind up through the mountains. It’s no wonder they didn’t follow him, I doubt anyone who wasn’t a courier knew that old path was still there.”

Adam’s blue eyes widened. “You knew about that? That he rescued her, I mean?”

Lumiere snorted. “It was rather obvious, Your Highness. And I inquired of my cousins, zey say there is no gossip from Arendelle save zat their future queen, she has gone into seclusion to protect her people.”

“So she was…”

“She apparently can’t fully assume the throne until she’s married, so even though they tried to have a coronation once she came of age to clear up some problems with the governing, she’s still a princess,” Cogsworth explained. “It was rather clever of them, in fact. I believe they realized she hadn’t the training to rule on her own, and marriage prospects might be limited due to the…situation, so they arranged things so that she could marry anyone with rank and the marriage would elevate both of them.” He inclined his head to his prince. “Rather like your own situation, in fact; the day we’re able to clear things up so you can officially take the crown, Lady Belle will immediately become queen to your king.”

“Is it that way everywhere?” Adam wanted to know. “I could have sworn Belle told me…”

“It iz not that way everywhere,” Lumiere told him. “It iz in most of ze kingdoms in this part of ze country, but there are others where marriage does not confer rank. My cousin François, he told me of one kingdom in ze east where this is true. Ze queen there, she is forced to rule as regent for her infant son.” Adam made a face, and the ‘king’ laughed. “Oh, you have heard of her?”

“I think everyone must have. John even mentioned her once – apparently claimants to the throne in that country don’t last very long under her regency.”

“No, as I understand it she’s rather vicious,” Cogsworth confirmed. He tapped the map again. “But you see what I was talking about? He made that ride in three days, Your Highness – on one horse, with no supplies to speak of, and riding double besides. And it was still winter there until he came down the far side of the mountains.” He sat back in his chair again. “I was impressed, when I saw that. You made a good call hiring him is what I’m saying, Prince Adam,” he explained. “Men who just do what’s necessary regardless of whether it’s impossible or not don’t come along every day, you know.”

Adam smiled. “I do realize that, yes – I just find myself wishing sometimes that Arendelle had.” He recalled himself to the reason he’d come in and bowed to Lumiere. “I’m sorry, what did you need me for?”

“I was going to ask you to bring a footstool for John,” Lumiere told him. “So he will be more comfortable. And some of ze mulled wine for myself and Andrew, if you would.”

“Of course.” Adam bowed again and hurried out, then came back directly and placed the footstool; John didn’t wake at all, although he did sigh in his sleep. Adam brought the mulled wine in shortly after that, and he might have lingered to look at the map some more but Elsa came in looking for him. “Oh Adam, Belle wants you!” she told him. “I offered to help, but she says I make the dishwater cold.”

Lumiere raised a saturnine eyebrow. “And you are doing zis by accident?” She blushed, and he laughed. “I thought not. Go back to what my Annette showed you, Princess. Lady Belle, she is very fussy when she is in ze kitchen.”

The doubtful look she gave him said ‘fussy’ might not be a strong enough description of what Belle was currently being, and Adam groaned and hurried off to be yelled at. But then Elsa saw John, and her expression changed – dramatically, and to the two older men’s eyes, very tellingly. She raised a hand to the pretty silver snowflake pendant at her throat, smiled a singular little smile, and then curtsied to the two men. “I’ll listen for the bell, in case you need anything,” she told them, and then left the room, closing the door behind her.

Cogsworth stared at the door with his mouth open. “Oh dear god, I was afraid that might happen.”

“I was not,” Lumiere told him, looking just a bit amused. “He is her protector, Andrew, and she is young – and in exile, whether she knows it or not. And he does not encourage this change we see, in fact I do not believe he even has noticed.”

The steward reached for the map, rolling it back up. “She’s growing up – and no, I don’t think he has. But if they go back…”

“No, ze question should be: What if they do not?” Lumiere sipped his wine. It was a bit heavy on the clove, but still enjoyable. “She may never be ze queen she was born to be, Andrew…but perhaps that iz not so great a loss? Our prince, he is not ze only one who thinks Arendelle does not deserve ze return of what it had so little appreciation for.”

Cogsworth quirked a smile and stowed the map back on its shelf. “True, he’s not.”

 

John woke up after a few hours of much-needed sleep in the chair in front of the fire and was pressed to join Cogsworth and Lumiere in a game they called ninepins which was played in the ballroom and involved a lot of mulled wine and creative invective, especially after Mrs. Potts and Annette joined them. John had never played a game before, nor had he ever seen or heard of adults doing so unless it involved cards or a chessboard, but in spite of that he very quickly found that he enjoyed playing and was even tolerably good at it. Nowhere near as good as Mrs. Potts, however, who had absolutely uncanny aim with the ball and who just smirked when Cogsworth accused her of practicing with cabbages in the kitchen when no one was watching.

She didn’t deny it, but she did reference something called ‘croquet’ that John didn’t understand, and was slightly horrified when he asked for clarification. “It’s a game you play outside, dear, you hit wooden balls with a mallet to knock them through hoops,” she told him. “We can’t do it in here, we’d have half the windows broken and scratches all over the floor, not to mention dents in the walls. But if you didn’t have this, or that, then what sorts of games did you play where you’re from?”

John shrugged. “I’d never seen anyone play at anything outside that didn’t involve throwing snowballs,” he admitted. “Sometimes the stableboys would pelt them at each other, although I’m not sure if they were actually playing at something or just doing it to be doing it.”

“Probably just to be doing it,” Mrs. Potts confirmed. “My Chip had done it to everyone but the prince, I think.”

“Lady Belle did it to the prince while he was still enchanted,” Lumiere reminded her, chuckling. “He was most surprised, to be hit in ze face with snow.”

“He was most surprised by almost everything she did.” Mrs. Potts took the ball they were using – which was sewn leather stuffed with horsehair – and readied herself to roll it across the floor to the place where the carved wooden pins were standing. She managed to knock all of them down, and was very cheerful about it when Cogsworth went to set them back up again – they were all taking turns to keep it fair. “So what did you do for amusement, John?”

John shrugged again. “I would read sometimes, but there wasn’t much time to spare for that during the day and not enough lamp oil to spare for it at night. The butler played cards on occasion, but he went someplace in town to do that so I’m not sure what exactly it entailed – I only knew he was doing it because he’d be rather bleary-eyed the next day and the steward would be cross with him. I got the idea that there was a good deal of drinking involved along with the playing.”

“He was most likely playing in a tavern or some other disreputable place,” Cogsworth agreed. “I’d have been cross with him too. You don’t have to drink to play cards, though. Lumiere and I can show you after supper. Some of the games involve counting, you’d probably be quite good at those.”

“In which case we will have to teach you ze ones you will not be so good at, so zat we will not always lose,” Lumiere chimed in, which made John laugh.

Adam had leaned in the door to see if anyone needed anything, and he smiled as he headed back to the kitchen to his very demanding wife. He ran into Elsa dusting and dodged the feather duster that tried to tickle him on his way past. She was having so much fun she was practically glowing, and it warmed his heart to see it. The Castle of Arendelle had to have been a very strange, sad place. On a whim, he tickled back and then ran, and she squeaked and chased him into the kitchen; he dodged Belle’s scowl by wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her hair. “People in Arendelle don’t have games,” he murmured in her ear. “The others are teaching John to play ninepins, get a cabbage and we’ll teach Elsa.”

She scowled up at him. “You want to play ninepins. With a cabbage. In the kitchen!”

He kissed her again. “Yes, and afterwards we can feed the cabbage to the horses.” He waved Elsa over. “Come here, we’re going to play the game the others are playing in the ballroom. It’s called ninepins, you roll a ball across the floor and try to see how many pins you can knock over. Although we’re going to be using a cabbage for the ball…”

 

Supper that night was a jolly affair, and Belle, Adam and Elsa joined the rest of them at the table by the ‘king’s’ request. Belle had only scowled once, because the lower end of the table had started up a miniature game of ninepins using a cherry for the ball and tiny pins made of ice, but Mrs. Potts had given her a quelling look and she’d concealed her irritation. That hadn’t stopped her being more than a little cross about the whole affair, though. Adam had of course been playing with them – she suspected he’d been the one who had gotten the game started, in fact, and that had made her even more irritated although she wasn’t sure why – and Lumiere and Cogsworth had been openly amused and encouraged the game to go on by betting on the outcome of each round with the contents of a bowl of sweetmeats. She’d been prepared to work out her bad temper cleaning the kitchen once supper was over, but to her surprise John had come into the kitchen and rolled up his sleeves to do the washing up with Elsa, saying that as he normally didn’t do any manual labor around the castle he should certainly help out with the supper dishes for the occasion of the day.

Belle couldn’t help but notice that the water stayed hot while Elsa was helping John, and finally came to the very unwelcome conclusion that he’d inserted himself into the kitchen to protect his princess from her apparently not so well-concealed irritation. He did an excellent job on the dishes, however, being rather more of a perfectionist than Belle had realized he would be, and he even cleaned the basin after they were done. “This really was a lovely day, I’ve learned to do so many new things,” she heard him say. “I’ll be glad to get back to the books tomorrow, though. It feels very odd to be in the castle and not have seen the inside of my office for the entire day.”

“Since you’d been in there until midnight last night, I’d think you’d earned a day out of it,” Adam told him, and hastened to explain when Elsa gasped. “It’s a tradition, Princess – the holiday accounts have to be done by midnight on Christmas Day. Next year I’ll pitch in to help so he doesn’t have to stay up doing them until the very last strike of the clock.”

Elsa cocked her head, frowning. “What happens if they aren’t done on time?”

Adam shrugged. “No idea. John?”

John appeared rather surprised by the question. “Honestly, I don’t know that anything does. I was always told that they had to be done, though, so I’ve always made sure they were.”

Elsa’s eyes went round. “The Yule Cat wouldn’t come for you if they weren’t, would it?”

That was new. “The Yule Cat?” Belle wanted to know. “What’s that?”

“I’m not sure, I just know that it’s bad. I’d heard some of the servants at home mention it, it comes for people in the night and eats them!”

John was shaking his head. “No, it doesn’t,” he countered. “That’s a fairy story, Princess, and a rather horrible one – they must have been talking about the Jólaköttur, it’s supposed to be some sort of demon cat that attacks people who didn’t receive new clothes for Christmas. It’s a fairy story someone made up a very long time ago to shame masters into making sure they provided their servants with warm clothing in the winter.”

“But why would they need to shame them into doing that?”

“Because some people don’t spare a thought for the well-being of those who serve them,” Adam explained. “Remember, that’s why we celebrate Boxing Day in the way we do here – so we don’t forget that every job has value and every person, regardless of their station, is deserving of care and respect.”

Her blue eyes were still wide. “People forget that?”

“All the time,” John told her. “You won’t, though, the same way Prince Adam and Lady Belle don’t. Only very selfish people would need something so horrible as a servant-eating cat demon to remind them to have a thought for the well-being of others, don’t you think?”

She nodded, then swept over to the chair where he’d hung his jacket and brought it to him, holding it out for him to put on. “You need to go to Cogsworth and Lumiere now, all the dishes are done and they said they’d be waiting for you.”

John smiled at her, shaking his head, but he did let her help him on with the jacket once he’d rolled his sleeves back down and then allowed himself to be hustled out after bowing to his very amused prince and the very startled Belle. Who came up beside her husband once they were alone in the kitchen. “What kind of place has demons for Christmas?”

“A very cold one.” Adam gave her a one-armed hug. “I suspect they have happier customs in Arendelle, in fact I’d be surprised if they didn’t; it’s just that I don’t think John and Elsa have ever experienced any of them. Not all castles are cheerful places like ours is, you know.”

Belle knew that – she did read, after all – and it made her feel rather ashamed of herself. She hugged him back. “I’ve been crabby all day, I’m sorry.”

“You just wanted everything to be perfect.” He smiled, dimples showing. “I don’t hold that against you.”

Belle wished for just a moment that Adam _would_ hold it against her; when he’d been the Beast he’d have snapped back at her if she snapped at him, and she rather missed that. Among other things. She detached from him, not missing the fact that he really hadn’t wanted her to, and pointed to the worktable. “If you’ll scrub that, I’ll start on the floors and then we’ll be done. I’d really like to read for a while before I go to bed.”

“Of course.” His disappointment was plain – probably he’d been hoping she’d want to do something else tonight, but Belle hadn’t any interest in indulging him that way and hadn’t for quite a while. Not that there was anything wrong with Adam _per se_ …he just wasn’t the Beast.


	10. Back to the Quest

It was a lovely spring day and Adam was conferring with John over possible ways they might manage to set up a trade agreement when Elsa came bursting into the office. “John…oh, Adam! I think something’s wrong with Belle, she’s…well, I don’t understand what she’s doing, but…”

“Whoa, calm down.” John had immediately left the desk to come to her. “Slowly now. What’s happened?”

Elsa wrung her hands, a scatter of snowflakes fluttering down. “I don’t understand it! She asked me to make her a statue. She had sketches, and she showed me how big she wanted it to be, and she wanted me to put it on the little closed balcony off her sitting room…but once I’d made it she started to act strange! She kept touching it, and then she got something to put over part of it – it was a part I didn’t understand, I’ve never seen a thing like it before but she had very good pictures so I was able to make it quite easily – and then she started rubbing up against the statue and…and…”

“It’s all right, Princess, I…think Adam and I both know what she did next.” John gave Adam a helpless look. “I’m not surprised she didn’t know what it was.”

“I’m not either,” Adam groaned. He ran a hand through his dark blond hair. “God, on the balcony? The entire village can probably hear her. Who knows what they’ll think…” And then he stopped, eyes widening. “Wait, I know exactly what they’ll think.” He put his hands on Elsa’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Elsa, what say you and I and John get back on that quest to find your parents, shall we?”

John’s mouth dropped open. “Adam…”

The prince gave him a meaningful look. “I’m sure everyone in and around the castle can hear her, John – and quite possibly the entire village too, thanks to the way the rocks echo. She’s obviously fallen afoul of some curse or enchantment or something, I have to go find the villain who did it and wring the cure from them. And perhaps while we’re out I’ll find some clue to the fate of my own parents as well.” He let go of Elsa, playfully smacked John’s arm, and dashed for the door. “Go pack, I’m going to let Cogsworth know! And John, get us a generous bag of quest funding from the treasury, this might take us a while.”

John sighed. “Well, this is going to be interesting.” He saw Elsa looking at him with a question in her eyes – looking at a certain part of him, anyway – and he squeaked and directed her attention back up to his face with a violent shake of his head. “Don’t even ask, it would be absolutely improper for me to answer a question about…that.”

“But you have one?”

His face flamed. “Princess…all men have one, that’s what makes us men.” He turned her around, gave her a little push toward the door. “Go right to Mrs. Potts and repeat what you told Adam and I word for word, and then tell her what Adam said – she can help you pack for this trip while I take care of my end of things.”

Elsa resisted the push. “We didn’t pack when we left Arendelle.”

“Because it was urgent when we left Arendelle, we didn’t have time to pack,” he told her. “This time is different, and this time everyone is not only going to know we’re leaving, they’re all going to help us.” She started to glance down again, and he lifted her chin back up with one finger. “Mrs. Potts will explain why I can’t explain…that, all right? And why it’s not proper for you to stare at it. Now hurry, before she hears what’s going on from someone else and heads upstairs to scream at Lady Belle.”

“Belle is doing something wrong?”

The sudden change in his expression startled her; it went from embarrassed and worried to…angry, and a little something more, something she didn’t understand. “Yes, very. But that isn’t your fault, she tricked you into helping her. Which I didn’t think she’d do…so maybe she really is cursed.”

“I’ll go tell Mrs. Potts,” Elsa told him, and then hurried from the room.

 

Mrs. Potts’ reaction to the tumble of words that flowed out of the confused princess who invaded her kitchen was sheer horror. She’d known about Lady Belle’s…problem, of course, they all had, but she’d never expected anything like this to come of it. “We’ll make sure everyone knows she’s not well,” she assured Elsa. “So she…drew you a picture?”

Elsa nodded. “I don’t understand why John was so upset. And then he was angry, but not at me.”

Oh dear. The older woman sighed and steered her to one of the kitchen stools, sitting her down on it. “He’s angry because she used you to do it,” she explained. “And because she’d be humiliating the prince in the eyes of our people if he hadn’t thought of a solution so quickly. But mainly because of you, my dear. She knows you’re an innocent. You should never have seen…one of those until your wedding night.”

Elsa blushed. “John said it wasn’t proper to stare, but I was curious.”

Mrs. Potts couldn’t help but smile, imagining the nervous bookkeeper’s reaction to that. “It isn’t proper to look, no, but I understand why you’re curious.” She was cursing Belle for it, too, but that would come later when Elsa was safely away. “Here’s what we’re going to do: You need to pack, and I need to get some provisions ready for your journey, so I’m going to send Annette upstairs with you to show you how packing works. And while she’s showing you, you can ask her all the questions you like.”

“She knows about that?”

The motherly cook almost lost her nerve right then. She was going to kill Belle, curse or no curse. But she nodded. “Yes, because she’s married, my dear – she’s married to Lumiere, so she knows all about it.” She spotted Annette and waved her into the kitchen. “Annette, have you heard…” The maid’s wide, shocked eyes said she had. “Yes, well, the prince is heading off to see about finding a cure for this…curse his wife is under, and he’s taking John and the princess with him as it’s high time they got back on their quest as well. I need you to help her pack, and to answer some questions.” Annette’s finely arched eyebrows went all the way up. “Lady Belle had the princess make her an ice statue to…use. It involved a certain body part the princess had never seen before and didn’t understand the significance of. Lady Belle drew her a picture.”

“John said it would be improper for him to explain it to me,” Elsa elaborated. “He was very embarrassed.”

“I can understand zat, yes,” Annette agreed quickly. “Mozt men, zey would be. Come, we will pack and I will explain. Iz not complicated.”

“Don’t forget that princesses must live by…different rules of behavior than the rest of us?” Mrs. Potts reminded quickly, and Annette nodded just as quickly back before whisking Elsa out of the kitchen by way of the back stairs. The older woman frowned up at the ceiling. “Gruel,” she said ominously. “You’ll be eating gruel every day until they come back, you horrid girl, just see if you don’t.”

Adam came blowing into the kitchen, saw her face and grimaced. “Oh, you’ve already heard.”

“John sent the princess to tell me. There were some things he…couldn’t explain to her.”

His eyes widened. “She didn’t…”

“Ask him? Yes, quite – you might go check to make sure he hasn’t drowned himself in the fountain or something over that, he’s nearly as innocent as she is.” She gave him a hug. “And as you were. That was good, quick thinking on your part. It will stop talk.”

“Or at least slow it down,” he countered. He kissed her forehead much the same way he had Elsa’s earlier. “Provisions? And be sure to leave room for us to stop in the village to buy something we ‘didn’t have’, would you please? That way John can spread the story where gossip will carry it faster.”

“I will, but you be careful with him,” she warned. “As I said, he’s nearly as innocent as she is – he may be clever, but he’s less able to protect himself than either of you and less likely to think he needs to.”

“I know – I’ll make sure the letter opener stays on his desk this time,” he told her. “And I can’t let anything happen to John, I’d have to go back to doing my own accounts and things and then our kingdom would fall apart again.”

He blew back out again, doubtless off to find John, and she shook her head. She didn’t think it was just the kingdom that would fall apart if something happened to John Kepperson on this ‘quest’; hopefully they wouldn’t have to find out.

 

Two hours of packing and conferring later, Adam, John and Elsa were riding down the mountain road to the village. The echoes bouncing off the towering granite walls of the mountains were indeed very telling, and entirely upsetting to Adam, but the rather desperately upset look the prince didn’t realize he was wearing when they rode into the village was, to John’s way of thinking, all to the good so far as convincing people that their prince truly did think his wife was cursed. There was no way he was going to allow Adam to be questioned by the villagers, however, so as soon as they reached the village fountain John reined in his horse and told Adam and Elsa that he’d be out with what they needed directly.

John was more than a little upset himself, of course, not only because of the way Belle had involved his princess but also because of the pain she was causing his prince. And so he probably shouldn’t have been surprised when the baker’s wife took one look at him and paled. “Oh my goodness, what’s happened?!”

He bowed. “Something dreadful – Lady Belle has been afflicted by a terrible curse, we’re riding out at once in hopes of finding the source and ending it. The day’s bread wasn’t risen yet, though, so I need to buy some to start our journey with. Two loaves?”

“A loaf and a bag of hard rolls,” the baker corrected. “The loaf for today, the rolls will keep better for the morrow.” He bustled around getting that together, refusing the coins John tried to give him. A chance look out the window, however, had him stopping dead. “The princess is going with you?”

“We don’t dare leave her here,” was John’s answer, which happened to be the truth – he didn’t want Elsa anywhere near Belle, not after what had already happened. “And the princess was already on a quest to find her parents when we came to this kingdom, perhaps this search will turn up something of help to her as well.”

“One can only hope,” the baker agreed. He handed over the bag with the loaf and rolls, refused the coins a second time, and then took the little bag his wife brought to him and handed that over as well. “For the princess,” he said. “And all best wishes that this will be solved speedily. Tell the prince our love goes with him.”

John found a smile. “I will.” The baker’s wife hugged him tearfully, and he patted her plump shoulder. “We’ll be back, my lady. These things have a way of working themselves out, you know – we only have to take action to start it off.”

She went to the window and watched him tuck the bread away safely and hand the princess the little bag of cakes before getting back on his horse, and then the three horses moved off down the road that led out of the village, out of the kingdom.


	11. Asher

The nearest kingdom to Adam’s on Cogsworth’s old maps was called Asher, and as it seemed likely that Adam’s travel-loving parents might have passed through there at some point – and possibly even have known that country’s king and queen – it was decided that Asher would be their first destination. Luck was with them in that although the map had been old, the roads were in good repair once they’d gotten fairly out into the countryside, and the spring rains had mostly ended so the weather was pleasant enough for camping not to be too much of a hardship. They had seen very few people so far, but enough that John and Adam had decided they should leave off the royal honorifics when speaking to each other so that anyone who might stumble onto them would think them regular travelers and hopefully not try to rob them. A plan which had ended up working even better than might have been expected, as when they’d stopped at the one rather rough little outpost of a village they’d come across, the coins they’d paid for their supplies with had been immediately recognized as being usually only seen in the hands of rather desperate and dangerous men; as a result, no one had been of a mind to ask them too many questions or interfere with them in any way, which had relieved Adam and John to no end.

Elsa, however, was finding herself none too pleased with their manner of travel. Not because it was, as Adam had genteelly put it, ‘a bit rough’; she and John had traveled and camped much the same way after leaving Arendelle to begin their quest, after all, and with far fewer supplies on hand to ensure their comfort. No, what was annoying her was having to ride Sven by herself while John rode the mare Mr. Fabron had named Buttercup. Not that she didn’t like riding Sven, because she very much did, but she had liked riding behind John! She wasn’t even able to talk to him now, because the road wasn’t very wide and they were having to go single-file in most places. Adam was riding in front, as he had the map, and John was riding behind. Every time she looked back he smiled at her, but Sven didn’t like it when she looked back because he thought that meant he should turn around, and she could tell in spite of the smile that John was worrying again. And somewhat afraid as well, just as he had been when they’d left Arendelle. Elsa didn’t like that. John hadn’t looked that way in quite some time, and she did _not_ like seeing it again.

Adam eventually looked back and saw her growing scowl. He at once stopped riding. “Elsa, what’s wrong?”

“Elsa?” John quickly caught up as well, his brown eyes widening when he saw the thick layer of frost on Sven’s reins. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

Up close he was somewhat red-eyed, although now the worry was all for her. Elsa’s blue eyes narrowed; the last time she’d seen John with red eyes… “You’re thinking about the curse!”

John rolled his eyes, although it made him wince just a little. “Not exactly. I noticed the effect of the curse kicking in not long after we rounded Adel’s Hill, I began to have trouble remembering how we’d gotten there. So I started trying to fix the landmarks in my memory…”

“So we could find our way back if we needed to.” Adam nodded, then pointed at him. “Elsa, snowball please.” She obligingly hit John in the face with a rather large one – she was annoyed, after all – and the way he spluttered was entirely satisfactory. “Stop trying to remember the route, John,” Adam ordered. “I won’t deny I’d hoped that part of the curse wouldn’t affect you, since you’d found your way to my kingdom once already, but whatever immunity you had to it has apparently gone off. It’s all right, all that means is we can’t get back until we’ve found a way to break it.”

“You might want to go back before that, Adam.”

Elsa cocked her head. “But you said we couldn’t go back to Arendelle until we’d found my parents.”

“Different situation,” John disclaimed quickly. “Your sister is still in Arendelle, so there’s still a member of the royal family in residence if something is needed. There’s only one of Prince Adam.”

“True,” Adam agreed. “But we already know that fighting the curse doesn’t work – and you, especially, know what happens when you push it too far, John. If you’d kept on doing that out here you’d have fallen off your horse.” He turned his attention back to Elsa. “Was there something else bothering you, Elsa?”

“I don’t like riding like this. We can’t talk to each other, and John is worried and frightened again.”

John sighed and nudged Buttercup closer, leaning over to cover Elsa’s cold hands with his warm one, melting some of the frost. “Of course I am, sweetheart. We needed to go on this quest, yes, but it’s still dangerous to be out here on our own like this. Why do you think we put you in the middle?” He saw that she didn’t understand. “Remember the men at the inn at the foot of the mountains?”

Her eyes widened. “There are bad men like that out here?”

“There are bad men like that everywhere. There were even some in Adam’s kingdom, but he ran the last of them out. I called the hill the road curves around Adel’s Hill because the last one’s name was Adel and that was the last place I saw him.” She hit him with another snowball. “Elsa, stop that!”

“No remembering landmarks,” she scolded. Adam was laughing now, so for good measure she hit him with a snowball too. “If it’s that dangerous I should be riding with you, John, not riding in the middle while you’re behind me worrying. I don’t like it when you worry. If I’m riding with you, I can make you stop.”

John sighed. “No, you can’t,” he said very plainly, swiping snow off his glasses. “Because your safety is my responsibility and so is Adam’s. And as I just said, being out here is dangerous even though it is necessary.”

“I’d be safer riding with you.”

Adam stepped back in before John could continue the argument. “She’s actually right,” he pointed out. “She would be safer riding with you, and then we could ride beside each other. I admit, I’m having far too much time to think about unpleasant things riding up at the front by myself.” Which was true, but he’d also come to the very unwelcome conclusion that John was doubtless planning to use his solitary status on the horse to put himself between them and any danger that might approach; he wouldn’t be able to do that if Elsa was riding with him. “So it’s settled, we’ll stop here, put all our supplies on Buttercup, and then let her walk on a lead rein behind us. And that will also let us have a fresher horse to switch off to if one of the others goes lame.”

It was rather obvious John did not think much of that plan, but he didn’t argue with it and dutifully followed when Adam nudged his own horse off the side of the road. There was thick green grass there, and the horses were glad to eat some of it while their riders shifted packs and bundles around. “We’ll have to switch back when we get to Asher,” John warned Elsa and Adam both. “It wouldn’t look proper for the princess and I to be riding double then.”

“We can switch back before we get there,” Adam agreed. He noticed something. “John, is that a knife in your boot?”

“Yes, Cogsworth gave it to me before we left—it’s in a little sheath that fits down inside. And then Lumiere gave me one for the other boot, he said he knew I’d be missing my usual blade.” He’d been giving Adam a look that said he knew where all the teasing about his letter opener had started, but then he burst out laughing in spite of himself when a sizable snowball struck Adam in the face just as the prince was opening his mouth to defend himself. “Thank you, Elsa.”

 

Another week of riding saw them arriving at the Kingdom of Asher, which was much, much larger than Adam’s kingdom with vast fields and farms and a bustling town surrounding a huge castle with soaring white stone towers and blue-tiled roofs. There were more people about than Adam had ever seen in his life, a good many of them looking to be wealthy travelers – so many travelers, in fact, that John kept Elsa on the horse with him instead of switching back to riding singly as he’d said they should. They found the inn easily enough as it was swarming with people and horses and carriages, and John left Elsa and Adam with the horses while he went in to see if there were any rooms available. He came back out with an odd look on his face. “Well, I was able to get us a room, Your Highness, although we’ve probably got the last one for miles,” he announced formally and somewhat loudly, much to Adam and Elsa’s surprise. “Apparently all this crush of people is because the King is about to host a very large ball – the third one in a row, in fact –– because he’s trying to marry off his only son. We needn’t worry about the princess, though,” he added quickly. “The prince is said to have found the woman he’d like to keep, but she’s an elusive creature and only appears when there’s a party.”

“So they keep having them.” Adam shrugged. “It’s all the same to me, John – not like we were here for that purpose or anything like it. Is there someone about I might talk to about getting a few minutes of the king’s time?”

“The innkeeper said there was, he’s sending him out…oh, this must be him.” Rather obviously it was, as the man was dressed in such a way that he could hardly be anything but some sort of royal servant. John waved him over. “His Highness, Prince Adam.”

The servant bowed, but it was a short one. “What kingdom do you come from, my lord?”

“Good question,” Adam told him. “Pity I can’t answer it –– that’s half the reason we’re on a quest, and the entire reason I stopped here to see about speaking to your king. We’re seeking information, I merely wanted to inquire in case he’d heard anything. We’ve got a kingdom without a name and two sets of missing royal parents – and then my wife fell under some horrid curse, which is quite likely connected to the rest of it. So you see, I’ve no interest in fancy parties at present.”

“Of course not, my lord.” The servant bowed more respectfully this time. “You may come with me now, if you like, and I’ll get you in to speak with His Majesty forthwith. You’ll pardon my saying it, but he could use the distraction from…other matters right now.”

“I will come with you,” Adam agreed, ignoring the offer of palace gossip as was proper. “John, see the princess settled, please. And I want the two of you to stay inside and safe, we’ve no way of knowing who among all this crowd may be something other than what they seem.”

John nodded, and the servant bowed again. “They should be quite safe here, my lord. We’ve no such goings-on in this kingdom as they do in some others I’ve heard about. Supposedly there’s one to the north ruled by a murderous witch who buried her entire country in ice and snow.” Elsa squeaked in distress at that and covered her face with her hands, and John quickly moved to comfort her. The servant quailed before the look Adam was giving him. “So sorry, my lady, I did not mean to frighten you. But we’ve none of that sort of magic here.”

“I’d not be so quick to say so,” John remarked under his breath. He had Elsa’s hands in his now, hiding them from view as he used the warmth of his own to melt the frost which had sprouted from her gloves. “I’ll stay with her, it will be fine, Your Highness,” he told Adam in a louder voice. “Come along now, Princess, let us get you up to the room and I’ll fetch a hot drink. Your hands are like ice…”

Adam coughed into his hand, vowing to get John back later for trying to make him laugh. The sternness the effort lent to his face had a wonderful effect on the servant, though, who stopped being chatty and got on with escorting him. Adam recovered himself enough to ask questions about the kingdom and the balls on the ride to the palace, and found out a good deal which put paid to the servant’s claim that there was no magic in their kingdom. They had a disappearing mystery of a princess who wore impossibly beautiful dresses and rode in a sparkling white and gold carriage drawn by exquisite white horses with diamond-studded golden harnesses, the like of which had never been seen before by anyone. And she always disappeared before the clock struck midnight. But no _magic_ , oh no. That would just be unthinkable.

 

The castle of Asher was even lovelier up close, and Adam thought he would definitely make sure Elsa got to see it before they left. It was also buzzing like a beehive, however, and he wasn’t much surprised when a dark-haired young man about his own age came striding up when he and the servant rode into the courtyard. “Your Highness, this is Prince Adam,” the servant introduced quickly, as the man looked like he was about to have something to say about bringing one more person into the current chaos. “He and his companions are on a quest and stopped to seek information; I told him a distraction would probably be welcome.”

“And you weren’t wrong.” The young man gave a short bow. “A pleasure, Prince Adam; I’m Prince Charming. I’d be happy to help if I can.”

Adam bowed back the same way. “I appreciate that. I can see that you’re busy, so I’ll try not to take up too much of your time…”

“Oh please, take up as much of it as you can,” Charming cut him off, leading him away from the avidly listening servant. “I’ll drive myself crazy waiting for tonight if I’ve not got something else to occupy my mind with. Hopefully I’ll be more use solving your mystery than I have been mine.”

“The disappearing princess?”

“No idea if she’s a princess, but at this point I don’t really much care – any woman can put on a pretty dress, but most of them don’t possess a nature of equal loveliness to go with it. If I have to marry, it’s going to be someone kind and gentle whose company I can actually stand.”

Adam smiled. “That sounds a wise decision to me, Charming.” A much smaller, rounder man than the prince came stomping up to them, and he swept a deeper bow. “You must be his majesty King Rupert. Prince Adam, at your service.”

The king raised a white eyebrow. “Prince Adam of where?”

Adam sighed. “I wish I knew, Your Majesty. Our kingdom fell under a curse over a decade ago and as part of that the name of it was stricken from everyone’s memory. Even attempts to give it a new name have failed, although the main part of the curse was broken some two years past. And then my wife began to be affected more and more strongly, so I’m out seeking information to try to bring an end to it once and for all. We suspect it may be connected to the disappearance of my parents prior to the curse being cast, and possibly that to the similar disappearance of another set of royal parents from a northern kingdom in a similar fashion. I had hopes that someone in your kingdom might recall something which could be of help to me on my quest – or that you yourself might have known my parents, as I’m told they traveled widely and often and may have paid you a visit at some point.”

“It’s possible, I suppose.” The eyebrow was still up. “You’ve got a pretty lady with you, I’m told. And a man you left behind at the inn as well?”

So the servant had offered gossip as a means of extracting information to feed to his king, interesting. “Princess Elsa, the daughter of the other missing set of parents. She’s under my protection at present, as she was already on a quest of her own to find them when I met her. The man who is with us is my Royal Bookkeeper and was in the princess’s employ as the same; I would trust him with my life or hers any day. I left him at the inn to guard her, there are…a great many people about just now, and we are strangers here.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Charming assured him. “Come, Adam, we’ll go into the conservatory to talk – it’s about the only place all this fuss hasn’t reached yet.”

“Because it makes the flowers wilt,” the king added. “So I told all the servants that they weren’t to go through it unless they had business in there to begin with.” He somewhat grumpily led the way to the conservatory, catching a servant along the way and instructing them to bring refreshments. The servant scurried away, scattering more servants as he went, and Adam saw Charming roll his eyes.

The conservatory was a beautiful glass-walled and -ceilinged room filled with flowers and vines and small trees in large pots, and in the center of all this greenery was a comfortable sitting area. The king took a woven chair whose well-worn cushions told Adam he sat there often, and when he indicated another chair Adam sat down as well while Charming took a seat of his own on a padded bench. A servant came hurrying in with a large flat book, which was handed to the king with a bow; this servant also scurried off as quickly as possible, and Adam decided he would have to ask John if it was normal for servants in a larger kingdom to act that way around their king.

King Rupert placed the book on a low table, flipping it open; it was a finely illustrated atlas. “You say your kingdom doesn’t have a name, but it must have a location,” the older man observed gruffly. “I dare say you wouldn’t have left if you didn’t know how to get back to it, so show me where it is.”

“We actually did leave knowing we might not be able to find our way back without the curse being broken,” Adam corrected, leaning forward to look at the map. “I had hopes John might be able to find his way back if nothing else, as he found his way into my kingdom once before; but within a day of leaving even trying to remember landmarks was causing him pain and the princess and I ordered him to stop doing it.” He indicated the place where they had entered the town, traced a line back north and westward. “This is how we came, it was just over a week’s travel from my kingdom to yours. Is there a map which shows more of the countryside? My castle is set with its back to some very steep mountains, surrounded by them on three sides, and our village is in the valley at the mountains’ foot.”

“Hmm.” The king flipped more pages, finally arriving at a spread which showed less detail but more area. He tapped a mountain range that stretched out for a good distance along the top edge of the pages. “These are the only mountains within a week’s ride, but there’s no kingdom there.”

“I promise you, there is,” Adam told him. He traced the general area where the road had been with his finger, ignoring the growing pressure behind his eyes and the pain he could feel coming with it. “This is the approximate location of the road. There was a rather rough village we stopped at for supplies about here, I think – they recognized the stamp of the coins we had as something they’d seen before, so we thought it likely others who had left my kingdom had passed through that way. And to get there we came through some hilly country…” He tried to keep tracing the path of the road they’d been on, but before he could get even as far as the hills a sharp spike of pain made him sit back in his chair rather abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dammit, I’d forgotten how much that hurts. I had hoped that since I can look at maps when I’m home I’d be able to do it elsewhere as well. And it’s not like I didn’t use one to get us here.” He fished it out of his jacket and held it out blindly, nodding when it was taken. “Perhaps if you compare it to your map?”

He heard Charming get up and the rolled map being spread out. “There’s the road, it leads into the hills. Maybe over in this direction…” He let out a sudden hiss, as did the king, and the map snapped closed again. “Well that certainly wasn’t pleasant. The curse?”

“Apparently protects itself everywhere and not just at home.” Adam forced his eyes open, trying not to squint against the light. “I do apologize, I didn’t think it would do that to somebody else or I wouldn’t have…”

“No need to apologize, my boy.” King Rupert looked a good deal less cranky and more thoughtful than he had only moments earlier, and he didn’t sound nearly as gruff. “I asked you to show me, and you did. The effect passes?”

Adam nodded. “Usually as soon as you stop thinking about it, yes.”

“Stop thinking about it,” the king ordered, albeit mildly. “I know you’re telling the truth now. I had to be sure, though. As you noticed, we’re overflowing with strangers right now, and you’d not believe some of the stories I’ve heard told of late by people who should know better.”

“I understand completely, Your Majesty,” Adam assured him, although he wasn’t entirely sure he did; another thing to ask John about later, he supposed. He tucked the map back inside his jacket with a sigh. “Well, this is going to make finding things out rather more difficult. If you’ve been hearing wild stories, though…you’ve probably heard of the Castle of the Beast?”

King Rupert snorted. “That one’s been going around for years…” And then he stopped, raising a surprised eyebrow; Adam colored up a bit, but nodded. “Well well, that’s one I hadn’t thought had any truth to it at all – I can remember stories about The Beast being told when I was a boy.”

Adam shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible the fairy who cursed me and mine had done it before. My curse was broken two years ago by the woman who became my wife, Lady Belle. That freed myself and my servants from the castle grounds – and me from being a Beast, of course – but it didn’t give us back the name of our kingdom or allow anyone who passed the kingdom’s borders to be able to return. I saw that part of it in action with my own eyes last autumn when I had to banish a man who fancied himself an outlaw. We watched him walk down the road, but then he reached a certain point and the way he started looking around told us that he’d just become unsure of where it was he’d come from. I didn’t want the man in my kingdom anymore, but even still it was somewhat horrible to watch the effect take hold of him that way.”

“I’d think so, yes.” Charming had sat back down. “So your wife…”

“We’re hoping it’s part of the old curse and not something new,” Adam told him – which was the truth, part of him really was hoping that. “I wouldn’t know where to begin to look for a solution if it was.”

“No, bad enough the only trail you have is more than a decade old.” King Rupert waved in the servants who were hovering near the door with a tray. “I can’t recall anyone visiting from somewhere so near right off the top of my head, but I’ll think on it. In the meantime, tell us what you can about your kingdom, it might jog my memory. And it certainly won’t hurt Charming to have something new to think about other than tonight’s appearance by his mysterious princess. I suppose you already heard about the current situation?”

Adam nodded. “Your man who brought me here did mention it, yes. It certainly explained why there were so many people at the inn – John said we’d likely gotten the last available room for miles.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Annoying as this whole thing has been for me, it’s been a tremendous boon for the townsfolk – not just the lodging-houses but also the dressmakers, tailors, milliners and shoemakers.” He chuckled. “I understand every goodwife who can ply a needle has gold to tuck away for the winter now.”

“And some who can’t as well,” Charming observed. “I’ve seen more than a few atrocities on the ballroom floor lately, it’s either that or someone’s gotten the idea that making me stare in horror is a good way to get my attention. Not that I’d care so much about the way they dress if any of them could open their mouths without making me wish they hadn’t, but apparently no one’s been raising any of them to be anything but ornamental.”

“And some of them can’t even manage that,” the king agreed. “I think perhaps I need to start emphasizing education more.”

“My wife did that in our kingdom,” Adam told him. “We made literacy mandatory – took a bit of doing to set it all up, and of course there were some who didn’t like being dictated to, but I believe it’s going to be nothing but good for our kingdom in the long run.”

King Rupert and Charming both wanted to know more about that, and Adam was happy to spend time conversing about something he and his wife had done during the time before the ‘curse’ had taken her from him. He’d always been proud of Belle’s intelligence, and although he knew – thanks to Cogsworth – that there were some who didn’t think it ‘proper’ for her to outshine her husband in that area, Adam himself had never had a problem with it.

Evening came upon them rather suddenly, and the king insisted that Adam join he and Charming for dinner and then kept him afterwards that they might continue their conversation while the ball was going on. “I do not dance,” he maintained. “And if I go out there all the widowed mothers of these ornamental girls start making cow eyes at me, hoping to bag the bigger crown if their daughters can’t land the smaller one.” He huffed. “Like any of them could hold a candle to Charming’s mother, and it offends me that they feel emboldened to try.”

“It would offend me too, I think,” Adam agreed. “And it seems quite rude of them.”

That made the king smile; curse or no curse, someone had apparently raised this boy not only to have manners, but to expect that it was unusual for everyone else not to have them too. This nameless kingdom of his must be a lovely little place indeed.


	12. The Servant Girl

Adam ended up staying at the Castle of Asher quite a bit later than he’d intended, and then he’d taken a wrong turn on the road and had rather a time of it figuring out which direction he should actually be going in. He’d finally managed to make sense out of his location and was riding back to the inn when he spotted her – although he actually heard her first, because she was crying. He reined in his horse with a frown. It was what looked like a little servant girl, possibly a scullery maid, and she seemed terrified as she scurried limpingly along in the shadows beside the road. “Little girl, what’s happened? Why are you out here in the middle of the night like this?”

She flinched when he spoke to her, and tried to draw further back into the shadows. “I…I…the ball…”

Oh. “Snuck out to see it and got caught out away from home, did you? Afraid you’ll get caught if they get back first?” She nodded vigorously. “Well, if it’s not very far, I can take you. Dard could do with a run.”

“Dard?”

He made a face. “A lady of my acquaintance named him that – she’s from the North. She’d be hurt if I didn’t call him by the name she gave him, so he’ll just have to suffer.”

That made her laugh. “It’s not so very bad a name.” She stepped out onto the road, cautiously, and he saw that she was not so little and definitely more than a girl –– she’d been hunching over, trying to make herself look smaller. She dropped him a curtsey. “If you would be so kind, my lord – my stepmother will kill me if she finds I went to the ball.”

Oh dear, it sounded like this one wasn’t a servant, either, in spite of the plain, worn clothes she was wearing. Adam dismounted and offered her his hand. “In that case, up you get and we’ll be off.” He helped her to mount, then swung up in front of her. “Tell me which way and hang on!”

Dard had indeed been wanting to run, so they made it back to the lady’s house in record time. Adam pulled up short before they reached the yard, not wanting any servants to see them, and she slid off before he could dismount to help her. “Thank you, thank you so much! Would that I had something to offer you…”

“No need,” he admonished gently. “Just be more careful next time.”

He’d already lost sight of her in the darkness, but he heard the sniff. “There…won’t be a next time.”

 

Adam took the ride back more slowly until he got back to the main road, not wanting to get lost again, and to his surprise he met Prince Charming going in the opposite direction, looking nearly frantic. “What in the world…!”

Charming almost unseated himself coming to a stop. “Have you seen her? A beautiful princess with one shoe? She lost the other on the steps as she was running away, and the guard said her carriage vanished…she can’t have gone far!”

Adam shook his head. “No, I…wait, one shoe?” He turned and looked back into the darkness in the direction of the manor house he’d dropped the limping woman off at. “Oh bother, so that was it. My friend, if that’s the lady you were telling me about over supper, you’ve got bigger problems than you know – and you don’t dare go after her, not right now. Something very strange is going on.”

“So you did see her!”

“Not exactly.” Adam frowned, then shook his head again. “Turn around, come with me – we must find a safe place to discuss this, to be overheard could be her life.”

“No!”

“Stop that!” Adam ordered, sparing a moment to reflect that he was starting to sound like Cogsworth – which probably wasn’t a bad thing, as Charming responded to the order immediately. “Turn your horse and come with me, and if we meet anyone tell the truth – you went riding out after her and didn’t find her, but you ran into me on the road and we’re returning to the palace. I’ll tell you what I know, we’ll come up with a plan.”

Charming turned his horse, which touched noses with Dard and fell into step almost immediately, seeming glad of the reprieve, and the two princes rode back to the palace. The party was reluctantly breaking up, and Charming essayed a brief apology for the disruption, citing too much wine and dancing and promising to make it up to them all in the near future. Then he whisked Adam up to an inner room with thick stone walls, summoning his father as they went. Once the door was closed, he dropped into one of the room’s worn velvet-covered chairs like all the life had gone out of him. “Something’s gone very wrong, Father.”

“So I gathered, when the pretty lady I was hoping was the answer to my prayers for grandchildren suddenly ran out of the palace like she was on fire.”

“I suspect she was running for her life, Your Majesty,” Adam told him. “Not from you or Charming,” he added quickly when the older man went red in the face. “From her stepmother, who she said would ‘kill her’ if she found out she’d gone to the ball.”

The king calmed back down and took a chair of his own. “Tell me all of it,” he ordered. “If that’s who I think it is you’re talking about…well, the girl was probably right to fear that woman and we’ll have to find her quickly.”

Adam smiled. “I know where she is, Your Majesty, and for the time being at least she is safe from discovery. You see, after I left you I finding my way back to the inn and I heard someone crying in the shadows beside the road…”

 

Trying to understand what was going on – and what to do about it – proved rather more complicated than either the king or his son would have liked. The little glass shoe the mysterious princess had lost on the castle’s wide marble steps, they determined, had a very powerful enchantment on it – and a fairly vicious one at that, as it would bloody the foot of any woman who tried to put it on, presumably unless they were the rightful owner. The obvious solution – make every woman in the kingdom try the shoe until they found the rightful owner –– was rejected by both Adam and Charming as being overly cruel. “As my Royal Bookkeeper says, people tend to lose their heads and do stupid things when money and power are dangled in front of them,” Adam told the stubborn king. “Your Majesty, you’ve probably no end of subjects who would risk the lie and willingly endanger their daughters if they thought it would net them a royal marriage. Can’t you just imagine how many would order a reluctant girl to go through with such a thing on the grounds that once she’s royalty she won’t need to walk that much anyway?”

“Fully half of what comes to the balls, I’m sure,” King Rupert agreed grumpily. “But if we don’t do that I don’t know how we’ll make this ‘search’ look good for the populace.”

Adam smiled. “Well, for starters, the prince knows who he saw and who he didn’t see at the ball – any woman he saw while he was dancing with the girl of his dreams obviously can’t be her. Send out a proclamation first thing in the morning stating that Prince Charming is going to be riding out in search of his one true love – the woman who can wear the enchanted shoe his love left behind on the steps last night –– and that anyone he saw while he was with her last night is disqualified. His equerry can warn them at the door that the shoe is…unforgiving of liars, and that withdrawing a bloody foot will put the entire family out of favor. That should stop all but the worst of them, I’d think.”

“And those worst?” Charming wanted to know. “You said it yourself, some would not think the risk was too great.”

“Or they might try to destroy the shoe,” the king added. “Which would put us back to the beginning. I’m not getting any younger!”

“Oh, I’ve an idea about the shoe,” Adam told him. “Don’t you worry about that, Your Majesty. I’ll be back in the morning and then we’ll set out to ‘find’ Charming’s bride and get her back here safe and sound.”


	13. The Glass Shoe

Adam rose late the following morning, as well he might after having been up most of the night helping Prince Charming and his father plan out a way to save the only girl Charming had ever wanted to marry. He rode back to the castle after he’d had a leisurely breakfast, this time bringing John and Elsa with him. King Rupert was surly – he’d wanted to set out at dawn, and probably would have tried to have the marriage that evening – but Adam managed to placate him and then with just a bit of preparation they formed two groups. Elsa, suitably disguised as a higher-class lady’s maid, went with Charming and his equerry to go from house to house, using the excuse that it would be improper for the prince or the equerry to handle a young lady’s foot in such an intimate manner. And Adam and John took a much more surreptitious and direct trip back to the manor house, to make sure nothing untoward happened before the prince’s party arrived – last, as the manor house was farthest out from the palace of all the ball’s invited guests, because of course it was.

The two of them were entirely disgusted by the time Charming and his entourage arrived there late that afternoon. There had been a great flurry in the manor house once word had arrived about the shoe, and the lady of the house had indeed told her two daughters that a scream from either of them on trying the shoe would result in their ‘joining Cinderella in the kitchen’, but that she would endeavor to make sure that the shoe never needed to be tried on in the first place. And then after ordering that same Cinderella - the girl Adam had found and helped the night before - to clean everything in sight in preparation for the prince’s arrival, she’d sent her up to the attic for something, soon after which there had been the sound of a door slamming and a great deal of yelling and crying…and the woman had come back down looking entirely too pleased with herself and pocketing a key.

Adam waited until the house’s occupants were suitably distracted by the arrival of the royal shoe-carrying party in the yard, and then he and John went around to the back of the house where the attic window could be seen. Cinderella was there, crying on the window ledge while tiny birds chirped around her in distress, and he waved to her and pantomimed the need for silence. With John’s help he climbed up the vine-covered trellis nearest the window and let himself into the tiny garret, bowing to the startled young woman. “Princess, let’s get you to your prince, shall we?”

She blushed. “I’m not…”

“You will be shortly, trust me.” He put his shoulder against the attic’s door and it gave way easily, and then he took Cinderella’s hand and led her down the stairs and right into the parlor where the shoe-trying farce was going on. “I believe there’s another candidate present who wasn’t presented to you, Charming,” he announced, much to his delight startling the lady of the house quite badly. “You didn’t see this one last night, did you?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Charming responded, although his eyes had widened a bit with recognition. “Very well then, my lady. Were you at the ball last night?”

The stepsisters went off into gales of laughter, and the stepmother bit her lip until the blood nearly came. “I’d never have allowed it, Your Highness!” she insisted harshly. “This by-blow belonged to my late husband, and as you can see she’s merely a servant _and_ prone to consorting with strange men…”

Adam stiffened, radiating royal offense – he was actually imitating Cogsworth, but nobody had to know that. “I could demand that you be imprisoned for that insult, woman! I am currently on a quest to rescue my lady wife from a most horrendous enchantment, and only stopped to see if my fellow ruler had heard any news which might be of use to me. I offered him my assistance when I realized his own need.” He gave her a wintry little smile. “The kingdoms do all try to help one another, you know.”

“They do,” Charming agreed. “I may consider your request, Adam, as this woman was just lying to my very face – two or three times over, unless I miss my guess. One really can’t have that in one’s kingdom, it sets a bad precedent.” He bowed to Cinderella, who was gazing at him with enraptured yet frightened eyes. “My lady, if you believe yourself to be the rightful owner of this shoe,” he indicated the glittering shoe on the velvet pillow Elsa was carrying, “please, be seated and allow us to verify it.”

Cinderella dropped a beautifully graceful curtsey. “Of course, Your Highness.” She settled herself into the chair, pulling her foot out of its worn cloth slipper and extending it. “It is my shoe, I lost it on the steps last night while…leaving the ball.”

“You were rather in a hurry, I believe,” the prince responded, and motioned Elsa forward. “We shall be discussing that later, my lady - at length, if the shoe is truly yours.”

Which was when the lady of the house tripped one of her daughters and knocked her into Elsa, causing the shoe to fall from the pillow and shatter into a million pieces on the stone-flagged floor. “Oh, how clumsy of you, Anastasia,” the lady said, barely able to contain her sneer of triumph. “Now the prince has no way of knowing who’s telling the truth.”

“Au contraire,” the prince countered. “You’re the sixth person who’s tried that today, you know.” He knelt before Cinderella and pulled the real glass shoe out of his jacket, sliding it onto her foot…and then holding out his hand. She produced the shoe’s mate from a pocket in her skirt, and he put that one on her as well and then lifted her to her feet. “I hope you like the idea of children,” he told her. “Because my father is nearly mad on the subject and is probably already decorating the royal nursery.” She blushed prettily, and he kissed her hand and then handed her off to Adam. “If you would please escort the lady back to the palace, Adam? I have some…unpleasant matters to deal with, and you’ve a better hand with Father than I ever will.”

Adam bowed. “It will be my pleasure, Charming. Come along, my dear, my man John is just bringing our horses. And you as well, I think,” he said, motioning to Elsa. “I do believe Prince Charming’s ‘unpleasant matters’ may well not be fit for a young woman’s ears.”

He had them out of the house and bundled onto the horses in very short order, mounting up behind Cinderella this time even as John rode in front of Elsa as usual. “This time I’m not trying to hide you,” he explained to the confused young woman. “Last night I was afraid we might meet someone on the road.”

“I was afraid we might too,” she admitted, relaxing but only slightly. “It’s my own fault she caught me. I was humming a song from the ball while I cleaned the floors, I didn’t realize it had just been composed in the prince’s honor.”

“You’ll pardon my saying it, but if that’s what it took for her to catch on then she must be a very stupid woman,” John observed. “You’ve been to how many of these wife-hunting balls this season?”

Cinderella blushed and shook her head. “I think my fairy godmother may have had something to do with that – my stepmother not recognizing me, that is. She’s the one who gave me the shoes, and the dresses…and the magic coach I rode in, with horses and footmen and all.”

Adam shrugged. “Magic didn’t make him fall in love with you, my dear. He gushes endlessly about your grace and poise and sweet nature, and a pretty dress didn’t give you those.”

“My guess is the magic was to create a mystery the prince would want to solve,” John suggested. “You’ll have to ask your godmother when next you see her.” There was a shimmer, and the horses pulled up short, snorting. “Well, that was fast.”

The woman who had appeared rolled her eyes. She was older, plump and white-haired, and looked exasperated but not unkind. “Keep it up, be a hearth cricket until I remember you again,” she warned John, shaking her wand at him, and then turned her attention to Adam. “You interfered in my plans, but I’ll not hold it against you – things may have worked out better this way, in fact. And as for you, Cinderella…well, the one mouse ran back to me last night having squeaking fits, apparently being changed back didn’t suit him, so you’ve got your own horse now.” She pulled a plump gray field mouse out of her pocket, deposited him in the road and then waved her wand over him; he all at once turned into a lovely white gelding with ribbons woven into his silken mane. “Get down from there, child,” she told Cinderella. “You’re not meeting the king in that horrid rag. If you weren’t wearing it I’d have set it afire by now.”

Adam at once dismounted and lifted Cinderella to the ground, and then the fairy waved her wand again and the patched dress became a pretty gown of pale blue silk embroidered with silver and diamonds; it went very well with the glass shoes. Adam helped her to mount the white horse, then bowed to the fairy. “Madame, if I may say so, you do beautiful work. Any further instructions?”

“Ride straight in to the palace without stopping,” she told him. “You three should stay for the wedding party, but the day after you must return to your own quest.” She squinted at him, cocking her head. “Well well, so that’s what Marguerite was up to all those years ago – pointless silly games, as usual. Good job surviving that, boy – and what came after as well.” And then she waved her wand, splashing out a spray of shimmering magic, and vanished.

Adam re-mounted his horse and they set off again. Elsa’s eyes were wide. “What was that?”

“Who,” John corrected her. “That was a good fairy, Princess – probably she was invited to Cinderella’s christening, I believe that’s how one becomes a fairy godmother.”

“Christening?”

“A party they have to celebrate a new baby in the family. It’s also when they announce the baby’s name.”

“Did I have one?”

John shrugged. “No idea, I’d have only been about two at the time myself. You probably did, though.”

“Did you have one?”

He laughed. “No. Those are for important people, Princess.”

Adam saw the storm coming in her sudden frown and headed it off. “He means people who are important the way kings and queens and lords are important, Elsa – not that he himself isn’t important as a person.”

“My father taught me that all people are important,” Cinderella ventured. “From the lowest servant to the highest king, he said all people deserve love and respect.”

“So I was taught as well. Your father sounds like he was a very wise man,” Adam observed. Which begged the question of why he’d taken someone so blatantly wicked to be his second wife, but the prince wasn’t going to bring that up in present company. “I think you’ll like Charming’s father, King Rupert. He can be a bit quick sometimes, but he’s a good man. He’d have had us riding out to rescue you at the crack of dawn if he could have.”

Cinderella arched an eyebrow at him. The dress may not have given her everything, but it did seem to be lending her confidence. “Even scullery maids have heard about how desperate he’s been to get the prince married off.”

Adam smiled and shook his head. “He has been, but on this occasion it was more because he’s apparently somewhat familiar with your stepmother and doesn’t think any too highly of her. And Charming would have stormed the house for you last night if I hadn’t stopped him, just on general principles. He truly is in love with you, you know.”

She blushed. “I…didn’t think about falling in love when I went to the ball the first time, I just wanted to go. And then I met him…and he was so wonderful and kind, and I begged to come back a second time so I could see him. And then again for the third ball, as I knew he was hoping I would come…but I lost track of time, dancing with him, and the clock began to strike midnight while I was still in the castle. It’s a miracle I didn’t change back right there in the ballroom.”

John’s raised eyebrow said he thought it something with rather more planning behind it than a miracle, but he kept that idea to himself; he really didn’t want to be a cricket for the foreseeable future. “We’re just relieved everything came out so well in the end, my lady. Prince Adam and I have been watching the house since this morning, standing ready to intervene if things came to a head before Prince Charming could get there.”

She looked at him with fresh interest. “You don’t talk like a groom, or a valet.”

“That’s because he’s my Royal Bookkeeper,” Adam told her. “And he was in Princess Elsa’s service before that. They were already on a quest to find the princess’s parents, so when the curse struck my wife I decided we might just as well all travel together.”

“What sort of curse was it?”

Adam bit his lip and looked away; John answered for him. “A terrible curse that took all happiness and contentment from her, my lady. The effects grew slowly at first, but then worsened suddenly and we set out to find a cure that very day – or to find the one who caused it and force them to bring an end to it.”

“Oh how terrible – my apologies for prying, Prince Adam.”

He found a smile for her. “No apologies necessary. I just find my wife’s…condition very painful to think of.”

She still looked sorry. “You must love her very much.”

“Oh yes,” he agreed. “That I do.”


	14. Meeting the King

Their arrival at the palace was met by the king himself, who looked as though he’d probably been pacing up and down the halls ever since they’d left that morning. He came rushing out to meet them, and Cinderella at once slid off her horse and made a low, graceful obeisance. “Your Majesty, I am so sorry for all the trouble I caused.”

“If the result of it all is my son actually wanting to marry, then you’ve no need to be sorry at all,” King Rupert insisted. “Up, up, child, and let me look at you. That stepmother of yours didn’t harm you in any way?”

“No, Your Majesty. She had tried to lock me away in the garret so the prince wouldn’t see me, but Prince Adam came and broke the lock on the door and escorted me back downstairs to where Prince Charming was waiting.” She lifted up her skirts just slightly to display the glass shoes. “He had my missing shoe.”

“He requested that I bring the lady back to the palace for him,” Adam put in. “The stepmother first lied to him and then contrived to break the fake shoe and call it an accident in a most unconvincing manner; Charming wished to deal with her without delay.”

“I’m quite sure he did – I shall banish her later, such behavior isn’t allowed. Her daughters are just as bad, I take it?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Cinderella told him quickly, much to his surprise and everyone else’s as well. “They aren’t…I wouldn’t call them bad. Spoiled, perhaps. And not very bright on the best of days. Their mother has a very…strong personality, and is quite ambitious. The girls are not at all accustomed to thinking for themselves, simply to doing as she tells them.”

The king looked rather inappropriately delighted by this. “How very good of you to defend them,” he approved. “Still, I don’t think we’ll invite them to the wedding, oh no. Perhaps I’ll have one of my people find suitable matches for them, that would do, wouldn’t it? Yes, my wedding present to you, my dear – I’ll see your stepsisters settled comfortably, since you spoke for them.”

She curtsied again. “That would be wonderful, Your Majesty.”

“Now now, no more of that,” the king fussed, lifting her back upright himself. “We shall be family soon enough. Now, what is your name?”

She blushed. “I…my stepmother called me Cinderella, Your Majesty.”

Adam could see the ‘oh she did, did she?’ snap wanting to come out of the king’s mouth, but the man restrained himself and merely nodded. “That’s…actually rather pretty. And fitting, since our kingdom is called Asher. I think Princess Cinderella has a nice ring to it, don’t you, Adam?”

“I agree, Your Majesty – and it is certainly unique.” Cinderella had gone a bit wide-eyed – she had suffered quite a few shocks over the past few hours – and Adam took her arm to steady her just in case. “Your Majesty, I believe she’s becoming overtaxed. Is there somewhere…”

“Oh! Yes, yes, bring her into the sitting room, we needn’t be standing around out here. All of you come, we’ll wait for my son to return.” He motioned peremptorily to a hovering servant. “Bring refreshments to the sitting room – and let Prince Charming know that’s where we are when he returns.” He led them all into a small, comfortable room just off the audience chamber, tossing himself down into his own well-worn velvet chair and then directing everyone else to take a seat; John stationed himself behind Adam’s chair. “Prince Adam, we owe you a great deal and I am only sorry I didn’t have any information which could aid you on your quest. You will be staying for the wedding, though, I insist upon it – and here at the palace until then. I had hoped I might impose on your princess to assist the lady in the meantime, as I’ve no wife to do that duty. We won’t keep you long from your quest.”

“I’d be happy to help, Your Majesty,” Elsa agreed sweetly. “Are you sure you want us to stay here in the palace, though? With so much to be done, we’d not want to add three extra guests to your servants’ burden.”

“Oh no, it will be fine, my dear,” King Rupert assured her. “We’ve servants aplenty, believe me – I’m tripping over them most days, and they’re scurrying around trying to stay out of my way.” He raised an eyebrow at Adam. “Small castle?”

Adam nodded. “Twelve servants all total, and four of those lived in the village and only came up to do the day-work. Of course, with only myself, my wife, and Princess Elsa there, we’d really not have needed more even if the castle had been larger.”

“Ah, a more informal arrangement, then – good! Keep it that way, my boy, you’ll be more comfortable. I used to escape to my hunting lodge for a week at a time, when my wife was alive, and and we’d not even take my valet with us.”

 

Charming returned to the palace about an hour later in high good spirits. “The thing I love most about bullies,” he announced as he came in, tossing off his cloak to a servant who appeared to have been waiting for just such a thing to happen, “is that they’re all such small, mean people at heart – which makes it so much fun to put them in their place.” He did a bit of a double-take, though, when he saw Cinderella’s dress. “All right, there’s magic going on here somewhere, because I know you weren’t wearing that the last time I saw you.”

She blushed. “It was my fairy godmother’s doing. She said if I hadn’t been wearing the other dress she’d have just set it on fire.”

“We encountered her on the road on the way back,” Adam explained. “She seemed quite pleased with the way things had worked out.”

Charming shook himself. “Well, that’s a good thing, I suppose.” He sat down on the narrow couch Cinderella was already perched on, taking her hands in his. “You’re all right, though?” She nodded, and he stole a kiss. “We’ll find husbands who can manage your sisters, don’t worry. There seem to be plenty of young lords to go around right now, but we’ve a surprising dearth of young ladies to match them with.”

“Yes, well, there will be more now that you’re off the market,” the king commented, not quite rolling his eyes. “Princess Elsa has graciously consented to stay here and help your bride-to-be settle in before the wedding, hopefully Prince Adam can keep you occupied as well.”

Charming looked surprised by this, and Adam shrugged. “We don’t mind, Charming – not like we’re on any kind of a schedule at present. And her ladyship’s fairy godmother said we were to stay for the wedding and then leave the next day, so I’m going to take it on faith that she knows what’s best in this situation.”

Elsa appeared briefly puzzled by that statement, but she said nothing and so the expression passed without comment. A servant came shortly thereafter to show them to their rooms, and so soon as they were alone she pounced on John, who was sorting through their bags and putting things away while Adam tried to decide what he was going to wear to dinner that night. “Magic means you know what’s best?”

John sighed. He’d known the question was coming, but he was wondering if answering it was going to have him experiencing life as a cricket shortly thereafter. Still, though, he wasn’t going to lie to his princess for fear of that. “No,” he said, “it doesn’t. Magic means you can do things people without magic can’t do, that’s all. In the case of this fairy, however…well, she seems to have been involved in this situation for quite some time, so Adam is trusting that she knows more about what’s going on than anyone else does.”

“That’s why he asked her if there was anything else we needed to do?”

“Yes, that was it.” He smiled, proud of her. She might never be able to rule Arendelle by herself, but she was going to make a good queen someday regardless if he could just figure out how to get her safely back to her throne without the threat of further…incidents. On impulse, he gave her a hug. “You know, you made a really wonderful use of your own magic today, Princess. Without you, we might not have been able to rescue Lady Cinderella without a good deal more drama on all sides. What did you think of it all?”

“I couldn’t believe those people were so…so…”

“Greedy?”

“Yes, greedy! They were terrible, John, and all but one of their daughters were afraid.” She made a face. “Charming called that one a harpy when we left the house, she was awful and her family didn’t seem to know what to do about her. Her father came out and apologized, and Charming was just as nice about it as Adam would have been and told him it was all right and that people sometimes get carried away in situations like this one. He told the man that there was a young lord on the other side of the mountains who needed a strong-willed wife and suggested he see if that would be a good match for her. The man cried, John. He cried!”

“Because his prince was so nice about it,” John soothed her. “Not all rulers would be, in a situation like that. A bad one would have gotten angry and punished the girl and her family; good rulers know better than to give in to their anger that way.”

She cocked her head. “But he was so angry at Cinderella’s stepmother, and he looked to be enjoying that.”

“That’s because her stepmother is a horrible, wicked person,” he explained. “Adam and I saw that while we were hiding outside the manor house this morning; she was even threatening her own daughters. And she tried to keep the woman he loved away from the prince even after she knew it was love and knew magic had to be involved. So, wicked and greedy to the point of stupidity.”

“I still don’t understand that.”

“You don’t understand because it doesn’t make sense,” Adam told her, coming back into the sitting room. “Cinderella is her stepdaughter – that means she married Cinderella’s father after his first wife, Cinderella’s mother, had died. And her marrying him made Cinderella a part of her family, and sister to her own daughters, under the law. So having Cinderella marry the prince would have brought every bit as much wealth and honor to the family as having one of her own two daughters marry him would have…and that’s where her being stupid comes in, because she let greed and jealousy blind her to reality and reason. Right now she’s just lucky that Charming’s father is also a good ruler and he’s not going to punish their entire family for what she tried to do.”

“He’s going to exile her, though, right?”

“Yes, because it’s dangerous to let someone who has no respect for the royal family stay in your kingdom, because if you do they’ll almost certainly cause more problems later.”

She frowned. “Do we exile people in Arendelle, John?”

“The king or queen is empowered to do it, yes. It hasn’t happened very often, from what I understand.” Mainly because the preferred method of punishing such people in Arendelle was execution – although that didn’t happen very often either – but he wasn’t going to tell Elsa that. Arendelle’s laws could be very harsh when it involved any behavior which might be considered treasonous…whether the offender had been trying to protect a member of the royal family or not. He shook off that grim thought. “Really, most people never go so far that such punishment is required, Princess.”

“So why did she?!”

Adam chuckled. “Because she didn’t think she was going to be caught, Elsa. Wicked and greedy to the point of stupidity, remember? Don’t try to understand a person like that, you can’t.” He turned his attention to John. “I know what I’m going to be doing for the next two weeks, and I know what Elsa’s going to be doing, but I think you’re going to be bored. And despite the much more formal relationship between servants and royalty they seem to have here, I don’t want you down helping in the kitchens or some nonsense like that, do you understand? You’re the royal bookkeeper of two kingdoms, I expect you to find something to do that befits your station.”

John smiled and shook his head. “I already spoke to the steward about having access to the royal library, Your Highness; I’ll be researching histories for information that might help us. When I’m not keeping things in order in here, that is.” He went back to ferreting out the other items he knew his prince and princess needed. “Someone will be up shortly with hot water for the bath. For obvious reasons, Princess, you’ll have to go last, not first as would be considered proper.” He seemed to sense Elsa’s opening mouth before a word could get out. “No, you’ll do it the normal, non-magical way this time, and the steward said he’d send up a maid to attend you if you wanted one.” The steward, who John suspected had ready sources of information all over the castle, seemed to have already come to the conclusion that ladies who use magic may not want or need ‘help’ with their toilette and might be offended if assistance were offered in that vein – he’d been that careful in making the offer, anyway. “He told me he’d already had one picked out for the prince’s future bride, but he changed her for another after finding out Cinderella’s…previous situation. So he’s apparently got a very high-class ladies’ maid running around with nothing much to do at the moment.”

“What would _I_ do with her?”

“I believe they mostly fix hair,” Adam told her. “And fuss over dresses and shoes.”

“I can do those things myself!”

John smiled. “Yes, that was why they said they wouldn’t send her up unless you requested it, Princess – the steward knew you didn’t _need_ her, but he wasn’t sure if you might _want_ her or not.” She shook her head. “Then we won’t ask for her to be sent up, it’s as simple as that.”

 

Servants came with water for the bath shortly thereafter, and while Adam was taking his John sat down at the room’s writing desk and went over their travel expenses, adding in what they’d spent at the inn the night before and budgeting for some minor additions to two royal traveling wardrobes to make them appropriate for two weeks’ stay in this much more formal castle and then the wedding to follow. Elsa plopped into a fine brocaded chair, bored and peppering him with questions. Most of them were about the upcoming royal wedding and how it would be planned and who would be attending, and finally John realized what she was actually trying to ask him. “He won’t be here,” he told her. “No one who was at your coronation will be, it’s too far and the wedding is too soon. Nobody will be here except people who live in the area, or Asher’s nearer neighboring kingdoms.”

“So no one from Weasel Town?”

“No, but it’s Waselton, Princess.” John corrected. “The place is called Waselton.”

Elsa pouted. “Weasel Town.”

The bookkeeper looked at her over the tops of his glasses. “Only if you’re trying to start a war. If not, the name is Waselton. Wa-Sel-Ton.”

“But I heard…”

“It doesn’t matter, whoever called it that wasn’t the ruler of Arendelle.” He put down the pen with a sigh when the pout deepened. “Sweetheart, don’t. You have to learn to be a proper ruler, and a slip like that can cause serious problems – no matter how accurate it is, all right? Not to mention, the people of Waselton shouldn’t be held responsible for the actions of one dishonorable man.”

The pout hovered for a moment, then dissipated. “They shouldn’t be, should they. Isn’t there a way they could get rid of him, though? He can’t be a good ruler!”

“Technically he’s not a ruler, he’s just a duke – that’s a step down from a prince.” He decided to try to avoid getting into the topic of how a kingdom rids itself of an undesirable ruler, as he was more than a little afraid she might make the connection between frightened, angry subjects and the rulers of those subjects sneaking off on urgent quests in the middle of the night. “His ruler is his king, in this case the King of the Danes, and as they have fifty dukes if they have one I doubt the man even knows that particular duke by name. All the king cares about is that Waselton is profitably run and remains loyal to the Crown.”

Elsa’s expression said she was not thinking that was an attitude a king should have, which actually made John happy because it really wasn’t. “What about Prince Hans?” she wanted to know. “He’s a ruler.”

“No, he’s not – he’s a prince because he’s the son of a king,” John corrected. “The way I understood it, he’s the thirteenth son in his family, which means he’s so far from the throne he might as well be in another country. That was why he was so very desperate to take over any way he could; a prince with no throne to ascend is a man trained for a job he can never do in his own home country. Quite a few of them in that situation wander around looking for a princess to marry, but most of them aren’t so unprincipled a villain as he was.”

“Then why did they ask me if I’d marry him?”

He was startled, and it showed. “Who did?”

“The Chief Councilor, he wanted me to marry Hans. He said he was sure Hans had just gotten carried away because…because he was afraid, but that he’d done a very good job in Arendelle while I was gone. He said…” She frowned down at her hands, which were knotted together in her lap in a growing circle of ice crystals. “He said they just wanted me to do my duty to Arendelle and then I could go back into seclusion so I…so I wouldn’t hurt anyone else by accident.”

The pen rolled off onto the floor with a splatter of ink as John stood up; he didn’t even notice. He moved to stand in front of her, she looked up at him with icy frozen tears starting in her eyes…and then he went to one knee, taking her hands in his, ignoring the cold that felt like it was actually burning his skin. “No, Princess,” he told her. “No, that isn’t right and he shouldn’t have said such a thing to you. He knew what happened wasn’t your fault. Do you understand? You not being able to control your powers was no more your fault than it was Prince Adam’s fault he was turned into a Beast. Not to mention, since you hate Prince Hans – with good reason – being forced to ‘do your duty’ would not have ended well for him.”

The pout tried to make a reappearance. “I could have held it in for one ceremony.”

John turned red all the way to the tips of his ears. He squeezed her hands, shook his head. “There’s…considerably more to it than that, Elsa.” She started to open her mouth, and he shook his head again. “No, I can’t discuss that with you. And I know Mrs. Potts or Annette must have explained…how a marriage bears fruit, so you already have the answer.”

She went redder than he had. “They wanted me to do _that_ with Hans?!”

“ _That_ is a part of being married,” he confirmed. “That was what Councilor Tarben was wanting from you; he wanted you to marry Prince Hans and produce an heir for Arendelle.” He squeezed her hands again and then released them so he could stand back up. “You don’t need to worry about that though, Princess. When the time does come for you to marry, we’ll make sure it’s to someone you actually want to be with, all right?”

Elsa cocked a skeptical white-gold eyebrow up at him. “You make it sound like I get to choose who I want to marry. Princesses don’t; queens don’t either.”

“You do,” John corrected bluntly. “Barring the fact that it’s a…unique situation anyway because of your powers, you’ll be forced into a marriage with someone not of your choosing over my dead body, Your Highness.”

He was unprepared for the surprise hug; she nearly knocked him over backwards. “No!”

John sighed and patted her back. “It’s a figure of speech, sweetheart.” Even if he had meant it quite literally, and hadn’t included his renewed determination to see that it would happen over Councilor Tarben’s dead body as well. “It just means anyone who tried to force you would have to deal with me first, all right? And they’d also have to deal with Adam, he’d never stand for something like that. Neither would Cogsworth or any of the others, either. We’d none of us allow that to happen to you. You will only be married if you consent to it, all right?”

The hug squeezed a little tighter. “You promise?”

“I promise. Adam will promise too, when you get a chance to ask him.”

 

The next two weeks went by rather quickly for Adam and Elsa, and a good deal more slowly for John as he mostly spent his days combing through the castle’s library for histories which covered the period of the curse, searching for clues which might reveal something about Adam’s nameless kingdom. His efforts gained him little more than a daily headache, which he was at some pains to conceal from Adam and Elsa, but he did find an account of a splendid christening celebration which had taken place in a neighboring kingdom some seven years past, and which had invited guests from kingdoms both far and near. He passed that information on to Adam so that he might ask King Rupert about it and kept searching, headache be damned.

The royal wedding of Prince Charming and Cinderella was a splendid spectacle which the inhabitants of Asher would doubtless be talking about for years to come. The wedding party which followed filled the castle and spilled out across the town and into the countryside, and in every corner there was much merriment to be found. Adam, in truth, was possibly the only person present who truly wished he were somewhere else – although no one who didn’t know him well would have gathered this from his face or manner. He did his part to keep the dancing going, kept one eye on Elsa to make sure she wasn’t being overwhelmed with attention and the other on Charming to make sure none of the young ladies present whose advances had been rejected tried to cause any trouble in the crowded ballroom. He’d have had John watch Elsa if it had been possible – John was much better at keeping her calm – but those servants whose services weren’t required at the party had all been banished below stairs for the duration and rumor had it were having quite a party of their own. Adam hoped John was enjoying himself and hadn’t slipped off to the library again for one last go at the dusty books and records, which had so far only yielded one potentially useful piece of information and days upon days of headaches John had very obviously thought he was doing a capital job of pretending he wasn’t having.

Mostly, though, Adam was wishing Belle was with him. Two weeks of being around Charming and Cinderella had made him miss his wife terribly, and the wedding had been a hundred times worse. He wanted Belle to be there at the party, wanted to dance with her as they’d once danced in the otherwise empty ballroom in his at-that-time enchanted castle, wanted walk with her in the moon-drenched gardens, wanted to laugh with her and join into conversations with her…he just wanted his love back.

A tinkle as of tiny bells startled him and he jumped…and Cinderella’s fairy godmother laughed. “More wine will cure that problem,” she advised. “Although it may not make for an agreeable morning on the morrow.”

“Exactly the reason I’ve been abstaining, for the most part,” he agreed. “That, and a man can’t dance well if he’s in his cups.” He noticed her foot tapping to the music, smiled and swept her a very courtly bow. “My lady, would you care to dance?”

She looked surprised by the offer, but then she smiled back and took his offered hand. “Why you adorable thing, I’d love to. Thank goodness you’re not in your cups.”

Adam laughed and swept her out into the dancing, where they did a very credible few turns around the ballroom before she indicated she’d had enough and allowed Adam to remove her from the crush just as though she’d been a regular lady and not an extremely powerful fairy who could have easily extricated herself. She saw the king watching them with a rather stunned expression on his face and favored him with a little wave, then returned her attention to Adam. She could see the sadness in his eyes, of course, which made her all the more appreciate the gallant effort he was putting into doing his part at the party. This one was a good boy, she couldn’t think why Marguerite would have settled that awful curse on him. Normally fairies did not interfere with each other’s little projects, but Marguerite hadn’t been around for a while so maybe…she stood up on tiptoe and kissed Adam’s cheek. “You’ve asked me no boon for helping see this plan of mine to a satisfactory conclusion, dear boy, so I’ll give you a gift,” she said in his ear. “When you find your way to the end of this quest, you will make your way home again…to your kingdom, Valeureux.” And then in a twinkling she was gone, leaving only a shower of sparkles that fell around the astounded prince like a rain of tiny blessings.

King Rupert came hurrying over. “Adam, you’re absolutely white! What…”

Adam blinked at him. “She…” He sank down onto the chair the older man pulled him to; his legs were shaking. “She said she wanted to give me a gift. My…my kingdom’s name is Valeureux.”

The king gasped. “I remember that place! It just…good lord, that had to have been a very powerful curse, to take away a memory like that. Valeureux was the home of the Ruby Market.”

Adam nodded. “Yes. I remember now…I remember my father telling me once that our kingdom was known far and wide for the famous Rubis Marché. He…never told me why, though, or what it was.”

Had he been looking he’d have seen the older man’s momentary scowl at that, but it was gone quickly. “I can show you, dear boy.” He urged Adam back to his feet and led him out of the ballroom, waving to his son to let him know everything was all right. Up the stairs to the eastern wing of the palace they went, and finally into a long gallery where a servant quickly lit sconces on the walls so the shadowed paintings which hung there might be seen. Some were portraits, others landscapes, and one of these was a mahogany-framed painting almost as long as a table which depicted a cozy village surrounded by autumn trees all in crimson and gold. A tall rock fountain splashed in the village center, surrounded by stalls and carts piled high with the fruits of the harvest: rosy-cheeked apples, bright berries, bottles of ruby wine, sheaves of golden grain and stalks of corn. The villagers depicted were rosy-cheeked as well, cheerful looking people who were almost all wearing some red item of clothing in honor of the day. “That was the Ruby Market,” the king told the stunned prince gently. “The trees turning just at harvest time were what gave it the name, as I recall, and it was said to be a wonder to behold. I’d never been there myself, but I’d look at this painting when I was young and wonder what it must be like to live in such a wondrous place.”

Adam shook his head. “I…honestly can’t tell you. It wasn’t until John came to work for me that I ever really started seeing my own kingdom.” He reached out one hand, not quite touching the painted fountain. “It’s still there, a bit more worn now. And the shop with the flowers in the window sells cakes; we’ve stopped to buy some on several occasions, John and I, because he said the people needed to see me and get to know me.”

“That they do,” the king agreed placidly. The effort to remain placid was almost killing him, though. He couldn’t imagine what sort of king would raise his heir not to know his own kingdom, or his own people – a bad king, only a bad king. And sadly, he now could recall hearing rumors of the last king of Valeureux, and had to think being cursed might have been the best thing that could have happened to the man’s son, if only because it had kept the boy from being raised to be like his father. He wouldn’t say so, however.

Charming slipped into the hall and hurried over to them, looking worried. “Adam, good lord, whatever did Cinderella’s godmother do to you?!”

Adam found a smile for him, tearing his eyes away from the painting. “She told me the name of my kingdom.” He waved an unsteady hand. “And there it is.”

Charming’s eyes widened. “You’re the king of _Valeureux_?”

“I’m the _prince_ of Valeureux,” Adam corrected. “I can’t be king, as my father is missing, not dead.”

“We’ve a similar law,” King Rupert said. “Stops overly-ambitious younger sons from getting creative with their path to the throne. Charming’s never had to know much about that because there’s only one of him.” He raised an eyebrow. “And where exactly is the mother of my future grandchildren?”

“Changing into something she can ride in so we can sneak off on our honeymoon,” Charming told him. “Princess Elsa is pretending to be her while that one kitchen boy pretends to be me, so far as I know nobody has noticed yet – and we’ve been free enough with the wine tonight that none of them are likely to, either.” He gave Adam a strong hug. “I know you’re leaving tomorrow, but I hope you’ll come visit again someday. I’d love to show you what Asher looks like when we’re not crawling with prospective brides and magical intrigues.”

Adam laughed. “If I can, I will. And if I can find a way to un-curse my wife, perhaps you can come to visit us.” He indicated the painting again. “Apparently we’re famous, and quite a pretty kingdom as well.”

Charming clasped his shoulder, then moved to hug his father. “We’re off, Father. Send someone if…”

“I don’t expect to need you,” the king informed him, rather huffily. “I need grandchildren! So go get started on that, it’s not an instantaneous process by any means.”

“I’m told practice does make perfect, though,” Adam added, and ducked when Charming swatted at him on his way out. He swiped at his eyes, dashing away the remnants of the tears which had collected there. “My apologies, Your Majesty. Shall we rejoin the party?”

The king nodded, taking his arm. “For a short while – long enough for them to get away to the lodge, anyway, and then you’ll need to be off to tell your companions what’s happened and get ready to leave in the morning. Although if you’d rather stay…”

Adam shook his head. “Cinderella’s godmother told me we were to stay for the wedding party but leave the very next day. She’s done my people and I such a good turn, I…” he raised his hand to wipe his eyes again, “…well, I believe it would be best to follow her instructions.”

“Good point,” the king approved. “Very well, then, let’s go back down to the ballroom and see how your little princess is getting along standing in for the bride. Hopefully she’s having fun, Charming did a particularly good job teaching that kitchen boy how to dance…”


	15. Belle's Curse

Belle had just come back into her bedchamber when a shower of sparkles startled her and suddenly a plump, white-haired woman in a glittering blue dress was standing there. The woman was giving her a disapproving sort of look, and shaking her head. “Good heavens, what in the world have you been doing? You look debauched! You haven’t been cuckolding that sweet boy, have you?”

“Of course not!” Belle tried to edge closer to the door, but the woman huffed and waved the wand she was holding and the door disappeared. “Wait, are you the same fairy who cursed him? Because he’s not here…”

“Of course I’m not! And I know that – I just left him,” the fairy told her. “He’s attending a wedding party and wishing you were there, so I came to see what this curse nonsense was all about.” She looked Belle up and down, frowning. “I do not see a curse, young woman. But your husband was telling the truth when he said you were all but lost to him, he was honestly upset about it. Where were you just now?”

Belle immediately became wary. “Nowhere. My sitting room.”

The fairy snorted. “If doing needlework or reading a book leaves you this flushed, we’d best be finding you less strenuous pursuits to engage in.” She walked into the sitting room and looked around it, zeroing in on the door at the far end. “And what is out there?”

“An enclosed porch, just a little balcony where I can go to get some fresh air and be protected from prying eyes…”

“And what should those eyes not be seeing?” The wand waved again and the door to the small space flew open…and so did the fairy’s mouth, as the ice statue of the Beast was still there in all its glory. “What…why you horrible, horrible creature! It wasn’t enough to humiliate your husband, you had to corrupt an innocent at the same time? How in the world did you even get her to make it…accurate? There’s no way she’d ever seen _that_ before, did you draw her a picture?!”

Belle cringed…but nodded. “I…you have to understand, I just…I miss him!”

“You married him!” the fairy snapped, making her recoil again. Sparks flew, and the ice statue disintegrated into a splash of cold water which spilled across the flagged floor and into the sitting room, soaking the rug; Belle shrieked. “Oh stop, you shouldn’t have had it anyway and you know it. No wonder he’s telling everyone you’ve been cursed, you’re exhibiting all the signs of one…” Her pale blue eyes narrowed. “Hmm, you are, aren’t you? And Marguerite doesn’t like her curses undone…” She squinted again, using her wand’s sparkle-trail like a lorgnette this time. “Oh there it is – not a curse all on its own, not exactly, but a very nasty side effect of the one that was already here. Still, though, maybe that’s the answer to this problem: I’ll just make the boy’s fiction into fact. You wished he’d never been delivered of his curse, didn’t you? Well, I’d not put it back on him – he’s a good boy, helped resolve a certain situation I’d been working on very satisfactorily, and he’s remaining faithful to his love for you even though you’ve been so blatantly not returning the favor. You, though…” She smiled suddenly. It was a very predatory smile, and Belle backed up until she hit the wall. “You wanted your Beast back, did you? Very well, then, I’ll give you one for your very own.” She aimed her wand, the tip glowing ever more brightly.

“ _A curse on you and your selfish heart;_  
_For the love you set to flight;_  
_A beast you’ll feel and his pain you’ll know;_  
_Ere the moon doth rise this night_!”

Belle dropped to her knees when the curse hit, flashing through her like lightning, the shock of pain so strong she wasn’t even able to draw breath enough to scream. When she could finally breathe again she opened her eyes…and the fairy was gone. So was her pretty sitting room. A sharp blade of light stabbing in through a narrow casement window marked the moon rising, casting just enough light to show crumbling, cobwebbed stone walls but nothing familiar at all. Also unfamiliar was the wild, animal fire now burning within her breast, making it hard to think clearly, even though on the outside she didn’t seem to look any different. And there was something else within her now as well, something more human and less beast which felt almost as though it were a shadow of feeling being cast upon her, the shadow of a sad and lonely feeling that belonged to someone else. The words of the curse came back to her: _His pain you’ll know…_

Oh god, what had the fairy done to her? And where had she sent her? She needed to be back home in Valeureux…

Belle gasped aloud. Their kingdom’s name was Valeureux, home of the famous Rubis Marché. And her father had gone insane when the curse had taken that knowledge from him, and spent nearly every day since then right up until his death trying to fill the ever-empty pages of the huge tomes which graced his study. Some of them books he and her mother had once filled the pages of together, documenting the history of the kingdom.

Belle curled up in a ball on the cold flagstone floor, sobbing, and so did not see the curious shadows gathering themselves away from the walls and reaching for her with pale, trembling hands.


	16. On the Side of the Road

They left Asher early the next morning. They had originally planned to visit the Kingdom of Corona next, the place whose well-attended christening ceremony might have been attended by one or both sets of missing royal parents, but as Corona’s king had come to the wedding King Rupert had approached the man about the matter himself to save them the trip. The other king had remembered hearing the King and Queen of Arendelle announced at one point, but he’d only even remembered that much because they hadn’t been known to he or his wife and in truth he hadn’t been sure why they’d been on the guest list in the first place. It was he who had suggested that Adam and his companions should try picking up the trail of the missing royal parents at the small but wealthy city they were now en route to, as he said that place had always been popular with royal or at least well-heeled travelers heading to or from the sea.

Being back on the road was rather a relief to Adam. He’d become good friends with Charming and it had been interesting to be around other royalty as it wasn’t an experience he’d ever had before, but the Castle of Asher was much more formal than he was used to and he’d found that wasn’t at all to his liking. He’d never given it much thought before, but over the course of the past two weeks he’d discovered he was quite happy that the members of the comparatively tiny staff in his own castle were familial and fussy and not afraid to speak to him whenever they felt like it.

That thought made him glance over at John with a frown. John had rather too easily slipped back into formality in Asher, as apparently things were even stiffer in Arendelle, and he was still ‘Your Highnessing’ Adam altogether too much even after half a day on horseback. He’d also lost some color after spending the better part of their visit poring over records in a windowless library, something Adam was rather upset with himself for not noticing sooner. But the bookkeeper still seemed cheerful enough, even though he was being rather quiet at the moment; Elsa, who had insisted on changing horses almost the minute they’d gotten out of sight of the castle, was sleeping on his shoulder, and he was very obviously trying not to disturb her.

John noticed the frown, of course. “Your Highness? Is something the matter?”

“It will be if you call me that one more time,” Adam snapped, and then stopped being annoyed almost immediately because the startled look on John’s face was nearly comical. “John, you called me by my given name all the way to Asher, I’d gotten used to it,” he explained. “When we’re in company or visiting someone else’s kingdom I’d expect you to go back to being formal, of course…but please, when it’s just us, I’d much prefer you just called me Adam.”

John blinked at him, shocked, and it was only Sven faltering a step because his hand had tightened on the reins that shook him out of it. “I…of course, Adam, if that’s what you want.”

Adam nodded. “Thank you. So tell me, how was the party below stairs last night?”

“Large and loud, although I didn’t see very much of it,” John told him, relaxing again. “I did go down, because they asked me to, but I don’t know how to dance and one glass of the punch they were drinking was more than enough for me, so I extricated myself as soon as I could do it politely and went back up to our rooms to start packing. And then I made the mistake of sitting down on the couch, which was why I was asleep when you came in – I’m not sure what was in that punch, but do I know I won’t take more than a sip if I ever encounter it again.” He cocked his head. “I understand the wedding party upstairs was being very free with the wine. There wasn’t any trouble from any of the ones who weren’t chosen, was there?”

“No, but not for lack of a few of them trying.” Adam rolled his eyes. “I thought I was going to have to stop Charming drawing his sword on one girl’s father, he was about one more snide remark away from it. That family’s name went on a list King Rupert had a servant keeping off to one side, they’ll be lucky if they’re ever invited to another function at the castle again as long as they live.”

“No, I don’t imagine they would be even if he hadn’t ordered a list made – the servants love their prince and they’re all completely enamored of their new princess, I suspect anyone who slights her is going to find themselves out of favor without the king knowing a thing about it.”

“That’s quite likely to happen in my kingdom as well, you know,” Adam pointed out. “If Mrs. Potts had ever found out about Master Beauchard greeting you with the business end of his gun that first time you went out there…well, I’m sure the entire village would have heard about it before I did, and we’d not have gotten the tax problem worked out in my lifetime.” He saw that John looked rather unsure what to think about that and nodded. “Yes really, John. She quite likes you – she had at me before we left about looking out for your safety while we were on this trip, you know.”

John shook his head. “It’s supposed to be the other way around. Especially since I’ve actually got some experience being out traveling like this and you haven’t.”

“Four days’ travel?”

The smaller man huffed. “Five, actually. And I’d gone out with the couriers in the past…”

“And how many times did you do that?”

He deflated again rather quickly. “Well…twice. The couriers taught me a lot, though, and I remembered a good deal of it even though it was so long ago…” The prince raised an eyebrow, and John colored up a little. “They did teach me a lot, really. Those were the only times I’d ever been out of Arendelle – or even very far away from the castle, actually – so I asked a lot of questions about everything.”

Adam was getting suspicious. “And this was _how_ long ago, John?”

The bookkeeper went quite a bit redder. “Not so very long…eight or nine years ago, I think?”

This time Adam was the one who caused his horse to falter. “You were _thirteen_?!”

His exclamation startled Elsa awake. “Adam…”

John patted her arm. “He was just surprised by something I said sweetheart, everything’s fine. Are you feeling all right? You’ve been dozing off for most of the morning.”

She snuggled back into his shoulder. “It was all the dancing. I feel like I danced _all night_.”

“Well, we danced for the better part of it,” Adam confirmed. “You didn’t enjoy yourself?”

“Oh, I did.” She sighed and sat upright, covering a yawn with one hand. “It just made me tired, and my feet still hurt. Why aren’t you tired, Adam? You danced even more than I did.”

“Oh, I’m tired,” Adam admitted. “I didn’t sleep well last night, even after all the exercise I got in the ballroom. But the fairy said we should be back on our way right after the wedding, and then she broke the nameless curse on the kingdom…well, I was rather afraid that if we didn’t leave early she might think I wasn’t doing as she told me. And I know better than most that making a fairy angry is something to be avoided at all costs.”

John was immediately concerned. “You aren’t suffering any ill-effects from the curse being broken, are you? We can stop…”

“I’m not, but we probably should make an early camp anyway,” Adam told him. “We’d all a long day and a late night yesterday, I think we’ll start fresher tomorrow if we stop earlier today.”

“Probably,” John agreed, although he still looked concerned. “And we’ll probably be sleeping more comfortably than we did on the way to Asher. I noticed our bedrolls are considerably thicker than they were when we arrived; the maids insisted on taking them down to be washed and aired, and I believe someone decided they weren’t quite suitable and improved them on us.”

“I won’t complain if they did.” Adam smiled. “Mrs. Potts would have done something like that herself.”

“Mrs. Potts wouldn’t know what to do with the laundry the Castle of Asher has,” John told him. “They’ve got _six_ washerwomen, Adam, and they decided to add a seventh one once they had two princesses in residence. King Rupert wasn’t joking when he said there were plenty of servants underfoot; the servants’ quarters might as well be a little village of their own, there are so many people in them.”

“Well, it is a huge castle.”

John shrugged. “Arendelle’s is almost as large, and we hadn’t a tenth of the staff King Rupert does. I’m not saying he doesn’t need them all, I’m just confused as to what they all do all day. At first I thought some were temporary staff brought in for the balls, and the wedding, but apparently they were all already in residence.”

Adam considered that. “You know, I honestly have no idea. I was just thinking as we were riding along that I was so glad my own kingdom is small, and that everyone just comes up and talks to me whenever they feel like it. I don’t think I could take having my servants all scurry around like mice every time they saw me coming.”

That made John laugh. “No, I can’t see you getting used to that. And I have to tell you, the maids were more than a little scandalized that you and Elsa dress yourselves instead of having someone attend you. Apparently that is just not done in their experience, and they were all whispering about what kind of kingdom doesn’t have maids and valets. And then one of them started telling a fairy story about a kingdom in a dark wood surrounded by black cliffs which was so foreboding that the king couldn’t get a princess to come marry him, and they decided all at once that your kingdom must be a similar sort of place and have had a really frightful curse on it that kept all the maids away.”

Adam couldn’t help but laugh as well. “I’m sure they know better today. King Rupert has a painting of the Rubis Marche in Valeureux, it’s a huge thing in a gilt frame and almost as long as a table. They’ve most likely had a regular parade through that room once the name of my kingdom started being passed around.”

“The Rubis Marche?” Elsa wanted to know. “What’s that?”

“It’s apparently when all the harvest comes to market,” Adam explained. “I didn’t know anything about it myself until last night, except for the name, but after seeing the painting I could understand why it was famous. Valeureux is a beautiful kingdom anyway, but when the trees around the village turn red and gold and the market is in full swing it’s absolutely breathtaking. The villagers apparently used to dress for the occasion, in the painting they were almost all wearing red, and all of the little shops were decked out with garlands and banners. That painting is older than King Rupert, though, so I’m not sure how long it’s been since we last did things that way. I’d like to bring it back to that, if I could.”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t,” John said with a shrug. “We ought to be able to get trade going again now, so even if the people of Valeureux were reluctant to resume that tradition you could always present it as an added draw for visitors, a way to boost trade. Although if we do that, we’re going to have to come up with more public lodging, perhaps an inn…” He shivered when a thin layer of frost suddenly decorated the side of his jacket. “Sweetheart, Adam’s kingdom doesn’t have ruffians in it anymore, an inn in the village would be a perfectly safe place for travelers.”

She tightened her hold on him. “Those bad men were travelers.”

“They were, but that particular inn is out in the middle of nowhere,” he soothed. “I’m sure every sort of person, good and bad, has come through there. This inn we’re talking about, though, would be right in the village, and the people staying in it would be visitors to the village who’d come to buy things at the market.”

Elsa considered that. “But don’t bad people buy things too? And there are a lot of pretty women in Adam’s kingdom…”

Adam’s horse faltered to a confused stop. “All right, I think we may have had a misunderstanding about exactly what kind of ruffians you encountered on your way to my kingdom. John?”

John sighed. “It was…rather obvious that robbery wasn’t the only thing on their minds. Even the innkeeper noticed it and warned me that I shouldn’t bring Elsa down to the common area for supper; he brought it up to our room himself. But it’s not like I hadn’t already thought someone might…get an idea like that, I’d told her to keep her hood up and stay close to me, and I warned her that if something happened we’d just have to get away as quickly as we could.”

He sounded more than a little defensive, and Adam realized he’d given offense without meaning to. “I wasn’t criticizing,” he amended quickly. “I may tease you about the letter opener, but that’s because I see it on your desk every day and it’s just so obviously made of pot metal.” Elsa visibly did not understand that. “Blades you’d use for hunting or fighting are made from steel, Elsa,” he explained. “Pot metal is what you make things out of which don’t need to be as durable, or hold as sharp an edge.”

That made her frown; she leaned around so she could catch John’s eye. “Is that why the man in the stable tried to attack us?”

“Possibly he noticed, yes.” That obviously wasn’t a good enough answer. “He realized it would most likely break if I tried to stab him with it, yes,” he elaborated. “It would never have gone through the leather jerkin he was wearing, which is why he was wearing that – most travelers aren’t carrying a steel blade, and he’d not have tried to attack someone who looked that dangerous in the first place. Those kind of ruffians are looking for easy pickings, they don’t want an actual fight with someone who might be able to best them.”

Elsa’s frown deepened into the beginnings of a scowl. “Then why did you tell me to pretend I couldn’t defend myself? _I_ could have beaten him!”

John half-turned in the saddle so he could look her in the eye. “Because the only way you could have beaten them all would have been to kill them, Elsa…and I did _not_ want you to have to do that.”

Adam saw the exact moment Elsa realized what those words meant, and had to reach out quickly to catch John’s sleeve so the resultant hug wouldn’t knock them both right off Sven’s back. He was starting to wonder exactly how much longer it was going to be before Elsa figured out the truth about the ‘urgent quest’ John had whisked her away on – if she hadn’t already.

 

Their chosen route took them through rolling hills which eventually smoothed out into wide green meadows split by the faint line of the road. It was an old road which looked as though it wasn’t used much anymore – in fact it hadn’t even been on King Rupert’s maps – but it did lead to the distant fringe of a forest they needed to be on the other side of and was a more direct route to it besides, so they’d decided to follow Cogsworth’s old map rather than King Rupert’s newer one. Making their camp each night under the vast canopy of stars was no hardship, and it was certainly preferable to taking their chances with random strangers on a more popular road. There were no people at all in this land they were riding through, in fact it looked as though there might never have been people there at all. Which did strike both Adam and John as somewhat odd; it was pretty country and the deep green swaths of meadow grasses betokened fertile soil and abundant water, so the idea that no farms or villages had sprung up in the area made little sense to either of them.

After several days of riding through this pretty but lonely country they were more than surprised to come over a little rise late one morning to find a small hut waiting for them farther up the road. There was no other structure visible as far as the eye could see, nor any fences or gates or plowed fields, just the small hut which got smaller and meaner-looking the closer they got to it. Nothing stirred save the wind in the tall grasses as they approached the hut, no response was forthcoming when Adam called out a greeting, and not a sound was heard when John dismounted and went to knock on the door before cautiously pushing it open and looking inside. He started, then swallowed and let the door fall closed again. “It’s…an old man,” he said quietly. “I don’t think it’s been very long, but he’s quite obviously dead.”

Adam got down off his own horse with more haste than grace. “Did someone…”

John shook his head. “No, not that I could see. But he seems to have been very old.” He shook his head again. “He’s…looking toward the door, like he was watching for someone to come.”

“And they didn’t, obviously.” Adam clasped John’s shoulder – the bookkeeper looked to be quite upset by what he’d seen – then pushed open the door to look and stepped back in spite of himself as the staring dead eyes seemed to fix on him when the light hit them.“Oh my goodness. What…what should we do?”

“Well, we rather have to…I mean, we can’t just leave him like that.” John seemed to realize something. “Is he…your first?” Adam’s nod made him straighten. “All right, then, I’ll…just go in and see if he’s got a shovel or something we can use. The lantern?”

Elsa had dismounted by this time. “I can make a light…”

“No, because that would mean you’d have to go in with me,” John told her. “In fact, I want you to stay well back from the door until I can cover him up, you don’t need to see…that.”

“You don’t,” Adam agreed. “It’s an old man and he’s dead, Elsa, and he died looking at the door. It’s…disturbing.”

To his surprise – and John’s – the princess drew herself up. “I’m not a child,” she told them both, and moved past them to push open the door herself. She did gasp when she saw the dead man, a little pattern of frost scattering out across both the door and the ground around her feet, but then she pushed the door open wider and held up an ice light in one hand, illuminating the interior of the hut as brightly as though the full moon was shining inside. The light didn’t do the scene any favors. What few furnishings there were looked crudely made and dirty. The blanket covering the man’s body was threadbare, the pillow supporting the sparse-haired head with its wrinkled parchment skin and staring black eyes flattened and yellow. Even the sleeve covering the gaunt, outstretched arm – stretched out as though reaching for something – was ragged and stained. “He was poor.”

“And alone,” John agreed. He went around her and pulled the blanket up to cover the dead man’s face; the reaching arm would not be bent back into place, so he left it and quickly made his way around the room. The crumbling hearth was filled to overflowing with ashes and a pot hanging on a hook within had long since boiled dry. The chest held only a few pieces of clothing and, oddly, a worn pouch containing a single heavy gold piece, a faceted emerald, and an intricately carved ivory spoon inlaid with silver. He laid the pouch on top of the clothes, frowning. “He’s got some…well, treasure in here; I’m not sure what it means, but I suppose that doesn’t matter now. We can bury it with him.” He hunted around some more, not finding anything much that they could use to dig a grave save for a smallish spade with a long, splintering handle behind the door and a rusty pick beneath the bed. These he brought out, moving his princess and prince away from the door and then closing it. “We won’t go back in until we’ve got a place to put him,” he said, handing the pick to Adam. “On the other side of the hut, do you think? Since he was reaching in that direction?”

Adam nodded. “That makes as much sense as anything. Treasure?”

“A pouch with a gold piece, an emerald, and an ivory spoon. Maybe an inheritance, or things he took in trade from travelers?” He frowned at the seemingly endless sea of waving meadow grass. “Not that it would have done him much good way out here. And I saw no trace of another person having lived here with him, so either he’d always been alone or whoever else had been here left long ago.” He shook himself. “Princess, are you all right?”

Elsa nodded slowly. “How could you tell how long he’s been dead?”

“He still looks very much like he must have while he was alive,” John told her. “If he’d been dead for very much longer than a day or so he…wouldn’t have still looked that way.”

She wanted to ask what he meant by that, but the look on his face was such that she decided against it and simply nodded instead. He gave her a hug and she hugged him back, feeling the tension in his body dissipate a little and realizing that he’d needed comfort but hadn’t wanted to ask for it. That bothered her, so she thought about it while she wandered around in the meadow while Adam and John dug the hole that would be the old man’s grave. John, she decided, wasn’t used to asking for things. Like hugs. Or help. When he was upset or sad or worried he just kept it all inside…John, she realized with a start, was a lot like she had been in Arendelle, she just hadn’t noticed before because he always seemed to know what to do, always had an answer to her questions – and Adam’s, for that matter. John hid his own feelings of helplessness because other people needed his help.

Just like she’d hidden her feelings of being lost and lonely and afraid because Arendelle had needed its ruler and her sister had needed to be with Kristoff. John had still seen it, though. He’d seen it the very first day they’d sent him to talk to her about all of the bad things happening in the kingdom, and after that he’d come every day and helped her as much as he could. She thought that over, frowning, realizing for the first time that something hadn’t been right about that situation. When they’d wanted her to marry Hans, the Chief Councilor had come to talk to her himself. And when they’d needed to talk to her about anything else to do with…well, anything, either he or one of the other two councilors had come, or occasionally the Royal Steward had. Nobody else, nobody ‘lesser’. Lesser servants and officials weren’t allowed into the royal wing of the castle, much less permitted to speak with her privately about important matters.

So why had they sent the Royal Bookkeeper, whom she’d never seen or spoken to before, to come talk to her about how to fix the kingdom? For that matter, why hadn’t anyone _other_ than John ever come to speak with her about it? Elsa, like Adam, had learned some things from her two weeks in Asher: She’d learned that the vast distance between King Rupert and Prince Charming and their village-worth of servants was far too great a distance for her liking, just as Adam had, but she’d also learned how restrictive that distance could be. King Rupert would never in a thousand years have just popped into his bookkeeper’s office with a question; he probably didn’t even know where that office was, or which bookkeeper to ask – Asher, according to John, had four of them and they all handled different things. And the Castle of Arendelle was run quite a bit like the Castle of Asher…

The answer came to her so quickly she gasped out loud. The councilors hadn’t come themselves because they were afraid of her reaction to being told about what she’d done to the kingdom. So they’d sent John _because_ he was lesser to them in the castle’s hierarchy of servants, because it didn’t matter to them if he died. The ground she was walking on erupted with jagged icicles, and although she quickly dissolved them so no one would see, she could still feel the painfully sharp spike of emotion that had caused them. The councilors had expected her to kill John.

They thought she was a monster. That made Elsa shudder, and although she didn’t notice it from under her feet sprouted an intricate pattern of frost like a round of fine white lace. Was she a monster? Because of what she’d done to Arendelle, even to her own sister…

A shout startled her, and Elsa turned around; John was waving to her…oh, he didn’t want her to wander too far, that was it. He’d been keeping an eye on her while he was digging the old man’s grave. The icy knot that had been forming inside her chest dissolved in a burst of warmth, and the frost pattern melted into the ground and vanished as she started wading back through the tall grass, waving to let him know she was coming. John didn’t think she was a monster, and so far as she knew he never had. Adam didn’t either, and neither had Belle or anyone else in Valeureux that she knew of. Maybe when they eventually went back home she could exile Councilor Tarben for trying to kill John. She was the future queen of Arendelle, after all…

Elsa very nearly stopped dead in the middle of the meadow as that thought led to another shocking realization. Why would you send your future queen on an urgent quest in the middle of the night with only a nearly unarmed bookkeeper who you’d already tried to kill once to accompany her? The answer was: You wouldn’t. John had said he was ‘the only one who could come’, but now Elsa remembered that he’d also said something else, something she hadn’t thought much about at the time because everything had been so new and confusing. Now, though, those remembered words were entirely too telling.

_Even if someone else could have come, I couldn_ _’t have trusted them with this._

Nobody had sent John that night. John had sent himself.

To protect _her_. Because he hadn’t trusted anyone else – after all, they’d already tried to kill him once and use her to do it. And John didn’t want her to have to kill anyone. He knew how upset she’d been when they’d had to kill the blue butterfly she’d made, even though he’d been at some pains to explain to her why killing it had been the right thing to do.

He’d gone back to digging, and she moved closer to the hole but not close enough to be in the way and made herself a seat out of ice with a soft snow cushion on top, sitting down on it to think some more while she watched Adam and John work. They’d both stripped down to the waist so as not to ruin any more of their clothing than necessary, and as they were both very fair-skinned she couldn’t help but notice that the usually-covered parts of their backs and arms were turning a bright, painful-looking red. Elsa frowned, putting aside her other thoughts momentarily to consider this more immediate problem – the hot sun overhead was apparently burning them – and after a little bit of thought and some concentration she caused a small snow cloud to form over the growing hole, like the one she’d once made to protect Olaf only larger and wider. Both men immediately stopped digging and looked up, startled…and then they both smiled.

Elsa wasn’t sure why she’d never noticed before how warm John’s smile made her feel, except possibly because this time the warm feeling caused her icy seat to melt and dump her unceremoniously into the grass. She might have been somewhat upset about that under other circumstances…but this time she was too busy thinking about how John’s laugh was actually warmer and nicer than his smile had been.

 

It was mid-afternoon before the hole was deep enough to be a grave, the ground having been hard and the available tools inadequate – in fact, the long-handled spade had broken early on in the digging, and John had ended up using the small spade they carried with them and eventually just his hands to scoop dirt out of the hole as Adam broke it up with the pick. Which also broke, but luckily not until after the hole had already reached an acceptable depth. They carried the old man’s body out on his thin straw mattress and just laid the entire thing in the grave, and then John put the man’s little bag of treasure on his chest and used two coins from his own purse to weigh closed the staring eyes before covering the wrinkled face with the blanket again and helping Adam pile dirt back into the hole. They spread ash from the hearth on top of the dirt in hopes of keeping the grass at bay for a time, and fashioned a marker from pieces of the crude stool which had been in the hut. There were really no words to say as they hadn’t so much as known the man’s name, but Adam wished the man well on his journey, John said he was sorry the man had died alone, and Elsa made a garland of ice flowers to lay on top of the grave. And then they closed up the hut tightly, fastening the door with a piece of leather so that the wind might not blow it open, and walked the horses until they came to a stream some little distance away where Adam and John could clean themselves up. They were both exhausted, not being used to such work as they’d just spent several long hours doing, and so they ended up making their camp beside the stream. And trying not to think too much as they bedded down that night about the lonely old man laying there dying in his bed in the crude, filthy hut, staring at the door in hopes someone would come to be with him in his final moments, and stretching out one desperate hand…for what?


	17. The Forest of Nightmares

It took them three more days to reach the forest – it should have been two, but Adam and John had still been so stiff and sore from digging the old man’s grave that they’d only been able to manage a few hours of riding on the first day before they’d had to stop again. They finally reached the forest just as a small storm began blowing across the wide-open meadows, and the wind-driven rain pushed them under the protecting canopy of the trees and further in until they found a clearing wide enough to make camp in, and that was where they stopped for the night. They quickly gathered dry leaves and fallen branches to make a fire, hollowing out a little pit in the ground to keep it from getting away from them, and tethered the horses close by.

Darkness fell quickly, turning their little clearing into a high-ceilinged room ringed by rough pillars and draped with black curtains, like some dark chamber in a forgotten forest temple. The noise the wind from the storm had been making in the branches finally died away, leaving the forest mostly silent except for the crackling of their fire and the noises they themselves were making – which seemed almost indecently loud, and so caused them to refrain from all but the most necessary and low-voiced conversation.

Until lights suddenly appearing in the darkness just beyond the tree trunks brought all three of them to their feet at once, that was. The lights bobbed and danced, coming closer and then darting back, spinning around the trees, briefly illuminating forest depths which had been hidden by the velvety black curtains of darkness between the trees. Elsa was clinging to John’s arm. “What…what _are_ they?”

Adam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself back down. “I think they must be fireflies,” he said. “Harmless little flying insects that make their own light – Belle told me about them once, supposedly they’re quite common in the valley. She said the light is how they attract mates.”

“It’s…eerie,” John observed. “Pretty, but eerie.”

A few fireflies ventured into their clearing, bobbing and weaving just outside of the circle of light cast by the fire, and Elsa let go of John’s arm to move closer, trying to get a better look at them; they veered away and she followed them around the side of the fire. “They _are_ pretty,  they look like they’re dancing in the air.”

“They do,” John agreed. “At first I wondered if we were seeing fairies. I can hear them buzzing now, though…” He shook his head. “Are they getting louder?”

“Yes.” Adam nodded. “There seem to be an awful lot of them coming this way, maybe they’re attracted to the fire the way other insects are…”

That was when Elsa suddenly screamed and took to her heels, running…directly into the arms of men wearing the livery of the Castle of Arendelle, who were quick to drag her away and fasten her to a post set on top of a heap of wood and rubbish which was immediately set alight by means of a smoldering torch. John cried out himself and snatched a branch out of the fire, meaning to go to her aid, but from out of nowhere a figure stepped into his path, making him fall back a step, and a familiar voice snapped, “And just where do you think you’re going?”

John felt all of the blood drain out of his face. The man was tall and spare and stooped at the shoulders, and his eyes were black holes in his furious, lined face. “F-Father?”

Adam had frozen in place at this sight himself, but before he could recover enough to move to John’s side a familiar laugh stopped him cold. He turned his head; Belle was there, swaying out of the trees toward him with a contemptuous look on her pretty face. “And just what do you think _you_ could do to help him, Adam?” she asked with acid sweetness. “You’re all but worthless as a man, after all.”

“ _Belle_?” He swallowed hard. “Belle, you…why are you here?”

She laughed, a hard, cutting sound. “Oh, not because of you, little boy prince,” she said. “I came in search of my Beast, of course.” She leaned forward, almost as though sharing a secret and quite deliberately displaying her décolletage at the same time. “He’s the only one who can satisfy me, you know.”

Adam wasn’t sure how a man could be red and pale at the same time, but he felt like he was managing it. “Belle… _why_?”

And she laughed again, waving a dismissive hand. “Because you weren’t worthy, Adam. You’ll never be worthy.”

John, for his part, was trying to get past his father to rescue his princess, who was screaming now as the flames licked at the hem of her dress, screaming for him to come save her. “Father, the princess…!”

“I taught you to stay out of it,” his father snapped. “And see what’s come of you ignoring me! You’ve abandoned your duties, you’re a traitor to the kingdom and a disgrace to my memory! And for what? That cursed get of the queen’s? What business is it of yours if they burn her, there’s another heir! All that matters is that the kingdom keeps going…and in the state things are in that won’t happen if the books aren’t properly kept up.”  A long finger poked toward his chest. “And just who is doing the books now? No one? No one! Because you ran off like some romantic fool of a boy…”

John flinched. “I can’t let them kill her, she hasn’t done anything wrong!”

His father was shaking his head, not even listening to him. “I always feared this would happen. You let yourself be distracted away from your work…”

The fire rose higher, and Elsa’s screams reached a crescendo. John made to lunge around the old man, although he already knew he was too late. “I can’t let her die! If I have to I’ll…”

“You’ll keep your mind on your work!” his father insisted, grabbing at his arm as though to hold him back. “You’re to keep your mind on the books and stay in your place, you’ve a responsibility…”

John ripped his arm free of the old man’s nebulous hold, wheeling on him in fury. “I have a responsibility TO MY KINGDOM!”

For just an instant, everything froze. Adam felt the words vibrate through him all the way to the soles of his feet, shaking him out of the fog of sick horror and betrayal he’d been lost in. He stared at John, openmouthed. What had just happened?

John didn’t appear to have noticed anything, and he swung the flaming branch in his hand with all his might. The image of his father exploded into a cloud of tiny flickering lights when the branch hit it, and John started back when they swarmed toward him angrily for a moment before darting away in a thousand directions, disrupting the horrifying image of Arendelle’s burning, dying queen at the same time. Realization dawned. “The fireflies!” he yelled. “Adam, it isn’t real! Scatter them! Quickly!”

Adam shook himself and reached for a smoldering branch. Belle’s mocking voice resumed its taunts. “Oh, taking orders from a hired man now. No wonder they won’t make you king, you’re barely fit to be a servant in your own castle, much less satisfy a woman! And they all know it! I showed them, didn’t I? I _proved_ you weren’t a man, Adam, proved it to your entire kingdom. Do you even dare to go back and face them? Maybe John will let you be his apprentice, since you take orders so well…”

The branch was in his hand, and he faced her through the smoke, the sneer not touching him now. “You aren’t my wife!” he cried, and then leaped forward and smashed the illusion apart, violently scattering the fireflies into the clouds of smoke…wait, no, not smoke.

Fog. The air was chilling, fog was rising from the warm ground. He saw John running, flaming branch still in his hand, and ran after him. In a clearing in the trees just beyond the one they’d made their camp in, Elsa was on her knees, surrounded by ice and fireflies. Her face was buried in her hands, she was quite obviously sobbing, and Adam could hear a cacophony of hollow, accusing voices hissing out of the air. He stepped forward, branch raised, but John slammed into him, shoving him to the ground just as a bolt of icy magic flew crackling through the space he’d been standing in; it splintered against a tree, coating one side of the trunk and several branches in a thick layer of crystalline ice. “What…”

“She thinks she’s being attacked, she’s protecting herself,” John hissed in his ear. “Stay back, I have to try to get her attention.” He swallowed hard. “If I can’t…just run, get out of range. And tell her I said it wasn’t…it wasn’t her fault.”

Before Adam could protest he was picking himself up and retrieving the branch, circling around the edge of the clearing. He just barely managed to duck another blast of ice, and then he started yelling. “Elsa! Elsa, it’s me, John! Elsa, look at me!”

She was shaking her head, violently. “No!”

“Elsa!” He moved closer. The next blast of ice clipped his arm and made him yelp, and she cried out at the same time. “Elsa, stop shooting ice at me! I’m real, I’m not a ghost! Now let me come help you chase them away!”

She lifted her head, and Adam almost cried out himself; he had never seen anyone look so devastated in his entire life. “No, you’re dead, I killed you! I killed everyone!”

“Of course you didn’t!” John snapped. “You haven’t killed anyone, it’s all a lie!” He made it a little closer, this time not dodging away from the snowball that hit him in the chest. “Elsa,” he said in a calmer voice. “Princess, you’re looking right at me, and you just hit me with a snowball. I’m not a ghost. There are no ghosts here, I promise. And I’ll show you how to drive the nightmares away – I’ll even do it for you, if I can.”

Tear-filled blue eyes blinked. “J-John?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He dropped the branch and held out his arms, and she rushed into them almost hard enough to knock him over. He held her tightly while she cried, hiding her face in his shoulder. “It’s all right, it’s all right. You haven’t hurt anyone, sweetheart, and you certainly haven’t killed anyone. It’s all right, I promise.” But then he looked up, into the angrily hissing clouds of fireflies, and Adam saw his face go paper-white. “Oh no, not…Adam, stop them, stop them!”

Adam lunged into the clouds of fireflies with his now-extinguished stick, beating at glowing structures he could just barely make out.  John joined him after a moment, horror turned to white-hot fury. “What…”

“It was a frozen graveyard – literally everything dead, frozen into ice statues. And the air was full of ghosts.” He swatted down a cluster of fireflies so viciously that half of them were smashed. “We’ve got to get out of here, Adam! They’re regrouping…”

Elsa suddenly yelled. “John, Adam, duck!”

Both men threw themselves flat on the ground as ice crackled over their heads…and then a rain of little frozen bugs fell out of the air. It happened twice more, and then it stopped and everything was still. Adam lifted his head to make sure the coast was clear, started to get up, and then flopped over on his back to stare up at the dissipating dome of fog overhead. “Did we just almost get killed by fireflies?”

“Yes.” John rolled over and sat up, slowly. “Did I…did I just kill my father?”

“If you did, I killed my wife at the same time.” Adam sat up as well, frowning. “We need to get out of here, before they come back.” His frown deepened. “Are you bleeding?”

“Am I?” John looked, shrugged it off. “It’s just a scratch – an icicle got me.” He blinked. “Wait, Elsa…”

“John.” She was approaching them slowly, looking unsure and upset. “Did I…”

“Not on purpose,” he assured her. “I saw what they were showing you, sweetheart. I’d have set the whole forest on fire to make that vision go away.”

A wind blew through the trees at that, making a low, angry sound somewhere between a moan and a growl. Adam jumped to his feet, dragging John up with him. “Back to the fire!” he ordered. “We’ll pack up and ride out the way we rode in – but with torches this time to keep them at bay.” Elsa started to say something, and he shook his head. “I don’t think they’re afraid of the cold – they must have winter here, after all – I think you just took them by surprise. Fire is our best protection right now. Stop the fireflies if they come back, but otherwise just stay close to me and John.”

“I…I can do that.” They hurried back to the fire, which was smoldering under a fall of damp leaves, and kicked the embers until it blazed up again. The moan came back, louder this time. They quickly picked up their camp and tied everything onto Buttercup’s saddle, and then John boosted Elsa up onto Sven’s back and handed her two flaming branches before mounting up in front of her. He took one branch and handed the other to Adam once he was seated and then they began to retrace their steps out of the forest.

It took what seemed like a long time, the overgrown road being nearly invisible in the darkness, and they quickly learned to brandish their torches at the slightest whisper of buzzing in the air, but finally they were riding out of the trees into wind-brushed meadows lit up almost as bright as day by the high-riding moon overhead. They rode a good distance more – enough that the forest was reduced to a dark fringe – and then stopped and made camp again in a cluster of rocks, lighting a new fire to keep the thought of the forest at bay. John’s cut was tended to, as were Adam’s scrapes, and once Elsa had gone to sleep with the promise that someone would keep watch all night, Adam and John watched together for a time before tossing a coin to decide who would sleep first. John lost and made himself comfortable where he was sitting, so as to be within easy reach if something were to happen, but he was still asleep within moments of shutting his eyes.

The moon had dropped a handspan in the sky when Adam heard the buzzing and reached for John, but a man’s voice coming out of the air stopped him. “No need for that, we just want to ask you a question.”

Adam reached for a stick instead, but didn’t lift it out of the fire. “You may ask.”

Fireflies rose out of the grass and a man shimmered into view. It was no one Adam had ever seen before, a strong-looking man of middling years with a cropped head and coarse, plain clothes. “We want to know why you came into our forest.”

The prince shrugged. “We were just following where the road led. We weren’t trying to come _to_ your forest, we were just passing through it as we traveled. And we only made our camp there because it was raining.”

“Why didn’t you heed the warnings?”

“Warnings?”

The man frowned at him; he had a scar on one side of his lip. “The warnings in the village. They know of us, they warn travelers to take a different road.”

Adam slowly shook his head. “There is no village on this road for a league at least, possibly two. There was a man in a hut beside the road not far from here, but he was dead when we came upon him. John and I buried him as best we could. Was he of your people?”

“I did not hail from this cursed place,” the man snapped. “You don’t know a seaman when you see one?”

Adam shook his head again. “I’ve never seen one, so no. My kingdom lies far from the sea, and this is the first time I’ve ever left it.”

“What kingdom is that?”

“Valeureux.”

The man started, some of the fireflies buzzing out of place as though the sudden motion had disturbed them. “I know of it – you speak the truth in that at least, you’ve likely never seen the sea. What draws you so far from your home?”

“We’re on a quest – several of them, in fact.” Adam raised an eyebrow. “Of course, you know all about the reason behind at least one of them, don’t you?”

The dead seaman made a face. “I’d have killed the bitch, if she were mine,” he said. “But I suppose royalty is not so free. Stay here, I will return.”

The fireflies dissipated and darted off. John pushed himself up on one elbow, rubbing his eyes. “I thought I heard…”

“One of the firefly constructs came to ask why we’d been in their forest despite the warnings from the village – I think they’re actually ghosts.” Adam poked the fire up a bit with his stick and then moved the stick to a more convenient location. “He said he’d been a seaman, not from here, and he seemed surprised when I said we’d seen no village coming into this area. I think he went off to see about the old man we found. I have to wonder now if the old man was pointing, not reaching – pointing toward the forest, trying to pass on the warning.”

“Possibly, although I’d say that makes his death seem even more horrible to me.” John sat the rest of the way up. “The ghost said he’d have killed…”

“Belle.”

“Oh.” He patted Adam’s arm, then untangled himself from his cloak and stretched. “We quite regularly had seamen in Arendelle, although not so often at the castle so I’ve not had much contact with them, but they’re interesting men – very colorful way of speaking, too, even when they’re not telling stories.”

Adam nodded. “This one seems very plain-spoken, but I’ll not hold it against him for speaking his mind. I don’t suppose the dead feel the need to stand on formalities.”

“I rarely felt that in life, save when my captain demanded it,” the seaman’s voice said, and then the fireflies swirled up out of the grass to make him visible again. He nodded to John. “Arendelle…you’d the Northmen to trade with, then. They are an interesting lot, yes, and not afraid of much at all in the world. Don’t ever drink with them, they live on the stuff and down it like it was water.” He returned his attention to Adam. “It was as you said, the village is long gone – and all else we knew in this country as well. You had no warning because none are left to give one, your dead man was the last – and you buried his share of the curse with him instead of taking it as some might have done for their trouble. So you may pass through the forest once the sun rides high in the sky and you will pass unharmed, it is but a few hours ride from one side to the other. But hide the eyes of your princess as you go, or at least tell her not to look up.”

He disappeared again, but Adam’s ‘Thank you’ was greeted by a buzz and so apparently had been heard and accepted. He leaned back against the rock with a sigh. “What do you think, should we continue to keep a watch?”

“For a bit longer, perhaps,  in case he returns with more to say.” John selected a stick of his own and put it in a place where he might grab it easily. “Go ahead and sleep, I’m wide awake now.”

Adam didn’t move. “So am I, unfortunately. We’ll both watch for a time and then sleep, we won’t be starting off again until well past dawn anyway.” He frowned up at the moon. “Why didn’t your father have eyes, John?”

John sighed, although he’d been expecting the question. “Because he went blind when I was twelve, and his vision had been diminishing even before that – too many years of squinting at the ledgers in poor light in a windowless room, and he wasn’t a young man by any means. So when I was twelve, I had to take over and be his eyes for him – he could only just tell light from dark at that point. We had to keep it a secret, though. He said the King’s Chancellor would find it necessary to put us out the moment he knew, and Father had no other way to earn a living, and no pension. Not to mention, he said they would replace him with some lackey who couldn’t do the job properly, and that would be the end of Arendelle. Father took his responsibility very seriously. It was his whole life, he’d no other cares or interests – for him there was nothing but the books.”

“And you?”

“I was his eyes,” John repeated, letting his head rest on the rock, staring up into the night sky. “He told me I must always keep my mind on the books and out of the clouds…but once he couldn’t see, I’d hide all in a manner of other books under the counting table to occupy my mind with when the figuring and counting and balancing were all done and the lamp was still burning. I suppose I should feel bad for deceiving him that way…but I don’t. The ledgers may have been my job, the responsibility I inherited from him even before he died, but those other books meant the world to me – they were all I had. He did care for me,” he added quickly. “He truly did, really, as much as he was able. He taught me everything he knew, not just about the books but also about dealing with people and avoiding politics. He said the politics in Arendelle had gotten out of hand after the old king had died; things needed to be run with a firm hand, but the new king was gone as often as he was there and the queen wasn’t much better – in some ways she was actually worse.” He frowned up at the winking stars. “She’d get bored, you see, and start meddling in things to entertain herself, rather like a child playing with dolls. I know that much of my own history, anyway. She got it in her head that my father should have a wife, and since he hadn’t found one yet she did it for him. My mother was…much younger than he was, and also quite fragile; it was the reason she hadn’t already been married off, although the queen didn’t seem to have cared too much about that and insisted the marriage was to bear fruit if they didn’t want to be out of favor. My mother survived my birth by less than two years, I’ve no memory of her at all. And Father never had any portraits or mementos I could look at, he didn’t even keep a lock of her hair. He wasn’t a…sentimental person by any means, or a romantic one.”

“No, obviously not,” Adam conceded. “Your mother’s family?”

“No idea. I know they must have been from somewhere in the kingdom, but I never knew who they were and they certainly never sought me out.” He did not quite laugh. “I think they may have forgotten about me, in fact, if they even knew I lived. My father did keep me hidden away in his office most of the time, as a consequence of him spending almost every waking moment there himself; it wasn’t until I grew old enough to be useful and run little errands for him about the castle that most of the other inhabitants of it actually saw me.”

Adam was getting the idea that Arendelle must be a much darker, odder place than he’d originally imagined, and the idea didn’t please him. He’d grown quite attached to his quick-thinking, pleasant bookkeeper and sweet, curious exiled princess over the year they’d been with him, and it pained and even angered him to think of what their lives in their own country must have been like – the illusions the fireflies had used against them had been telling. He didn’t think he should share those exact thoughts with John, though, so instead he said, “That seems a very odd thing to me, but then I was raised mostly by the castle’s servants and they’re a very tight, familiar bunch even on a bad day due to there being so few of them. After seeing the level of formality at the palace in Asher…well, I can’t help but think Charming is going to be quite shocked if he ever comes to visit us.”

John chuckled. “Oh, his servants are tighter than you think. They dance around the king because he has a quick temper, or so they told me while we were there, but apparently their situation is most agreeable otherwise and they were happy to brag to another ruler’s servant about it. I was given more gossip than I knew what to do with.”

“Anything entertaining? I could use a distraction just now.”

“Only if you want to know who’s sleeping with who in the palace, or what color underthings the king wears.” He saw the raised eyebrow and smiled. “Pink. One of the washerwomen made a mistake one day and dyed the lot by putting them in to boil with a red flannel, and he decided he liked it so that’s what color they stayed.”

That made Adam laugh. “I can see that, yes. It wouldn’t happen in our castle, though – Mrs. Potts would never stand for it.”

“I did hear her scolding Cogsworth one day because his shirt looked ‘dingy’.”

“She’s gotten spoiled, we all had – the enchantment on the castle used to do most of the work, you see. Everything was always sparkling unless…someone didn’t want it to be.”

John nodded when he trailed off. “Belle told Elsa that story, and Elsa told me. I can’t think I’d have wanted to clean that room either, or let anyone else come in to do the job for me.”

“That was how I felt about it, yes.” Adam made a face. “Not that I could have cleaned it myself anyway, not really.” He held up one smooth-skinned hand, flexing long, sensitive fingers around nothing in the moonlight. “I had claws, very long curved ones, and massive paws to go with them. Manipulating anything small was nearly impossible.”

“I’d imagine so.” John shifted so he was looking at the other man. “I realized earlier that I hadn’t said it before, but…I am sorry, Adam. I know you love her. Everyone knows.”

“They also know she doesn’t return the sentiment.” Adam snorted a little laugh, although it had a bitter edge. “I really, truly don’t understand what went wrong, John. You…saw, I know you did. When she first met me I was a monster, and violently ill-tempered most of the time. I was miserable and hated myself, and in consequence hated everything around me. But even though she apparently loved me enough to break the curse, even though she _knew_ how horrible it had been…she still wanted it to come back, she wanted ‘her Beast’ and not…and not just for companionship. It makes no sense to me at all.”

“To me either,” John agreed. “I heard her father was…not quite right?”

That made Adam snort again. “Oh, someone was being polite. He was insane, I believe they even locked him up for it on more than one occasion…” And then he clapped a hand to his mouth, almost as though he wanted to be sick. “Oh no. No! He was…it was my fault.”

John shook his head. “If the curse was involved, then no it wasn’t – it couldn’t have been, you weren’t even responsible for the curse being cast in the first place. I’ve told you that and so has everyone else.”

“But I…I _forgot_ , John! Belle’s father was… he was the Royal Historian.”

Even John turned a funny color at that. “Dear god, the second part of the curse must have scrambled his mind like an egg. No wonder he went insane! Did his daughter…”

Adam shook his head. “She’s several years younger than me. She’d not have known enough to have that effect. And she’s spent most of her life caring for her father. The way I understood it she was well thought-of in the village, the one man I ever did want to kill had been more than determined to marry her…”

“I’ve heard about Gaston from more than just Master Beauchard’s men, Adam – he was a drunken braggart, and something of a bully besides. Elsa says Belle was terrified of him. And wasn’t he trying to kill you and force her into marriage with him?”

“Considering that at the time I looked more like a trophy animal than a prince, and I had seemingly kidnapped the woman he wanted? I can’t really hold that first one against him.” He frowned at the stars. “That second part, though…he did deserve to die for that. Lumiere taught me that a man should never force himself on a woman – tease and flatter to get her attention, yes, but never discount her honest wishes. He said, ‘If you want to possess something warm and living, buy a horse – a woman is a treasure to be cherished, not a possession to be owned’.”

John chuckled. “He would say that, wouldn’t he? He treats Annette like she’s made of gold.”

“He was pursuing her even before the curse fell, and even that didn’t slow him down –  believe me, watching a candlestick flirt with a feather duster is a surreal and somewhat confusing experience.”

“I can only imagine.” John was still thinking. Something about Belle… “Wait, Belle was how old when the curse fell?”

“Maybe seven or eight?”

“And she’d been taking care of her father all that time.” He made a face. “Damn. It would be much nicer to believe the problem could all be blamed on the curse rather than…well, on her being spoiled, I suppose, wouldn’t it?”

“Spoiled?”

“Spoiled, Adam – and I don’t mean that in a bad way, necessarily, it just came to a bad end, most likely because of the influence of the curse. Her father wouldn’t have been able to tell her ‘no’ would he? She had to learn to be responsible, to be the adult to her father’s child from a very young age, but that also means that from a very young age she’s always had things her own way.  And then the enchantment on your castle gave her the same thing, but with no responsibilities attached.” John snorted. “So I guess you could say she is cursed, after all – she’s cursed with always wanting everything to be exactly the way she wishes it to be, and to thinking there isn’t anything wrong with that. Elsa’s mother suffered from the same malady, just to a more extreme degree.”

“Hmm.” It was an interesting way of thinking about the situation; in fact, it made him feel a bit better. Still, though… “You don’t think it was…me?”

“Adam, putting aside the fact that you’re the more…experienced in that area of the two of us, I feel perfectly safe in saying I’m sure it wasn’t you, or anything you did, or anything you didn’t do. She just wants what she had before because it was an exciting thing rather than a mundane one, and she’s not thinking of _you_ at all in that equation.”

That was also true. “So you’ve never…”

“No, of course not. There was never any…opportunity, honestly. I was always kept very busy, I spent most of every day in the counting room, and then after the Lord High Chancellor died…well, I stayed even more busy but became very expendable as well. Why do you think they sent me to talk to the princess after everything that went on? The remaining three councilors were a lot of things and most of those weren’t very good. I’m positive that at least the Chief Councilor if not all three of them together had something to do with the rumors and violence that led to us to have to flee the kingdom that night.”

“Violence?”

John shook his head. “No, I don’t want her to hear about that, not even in her sleep. I realize that someday she’ll have to know, but I won’t tell her unless I’ve no choice. I hate to think what her reaction will be to knowing she may never be able to go home again.”

Adam sat up a little straighter. “Her sister…”

“I can’t be sure. All I had up until that point were rumors, and none of them anything I could confirm. From what I’d heard, though…yes, the lies may have taken root in that area as well. Certainly no one who could have stopped…bad things from happening was about that night, not even just turning up to see what the noise was all about in the courtyard. And you may have noticed that no one has ever come looking for her since, either.”

Adam reached over and clasped his shoulder. “Her home is in Valeureux now, John – as is yours.”

John returned the gesture. “I know, and I thank you for that. But what happens when she decides this ‘secret quest’ business is all well and good but she wants to see her sister?”

“We’ll tell her the truth, and let her send a letter to test the waters. If it’s to happen, her sister can come visit her in Valeureux where we’ll have control of the situation.” He puffed up, just a little bit. “I’m told I have a rather fearsome reputation in some areas.”

That made John laugh and give him a push. “Only in those areas where people don’t realize you were changed back – or where they think you might do it again.”

Adam essayed a mock shudder. “Dear god, don’t even suggest that could happen. I can’t think of a single advantage to being a hairy monster of a Beast.”

 

They slept late that morning, and took their time breaking their hasty camp in the rocks, not getting back on the road until the sun had almost reached its zenith. Elsa was once again riding behind John, and as he had passed along the seaman’s warning she had pulled up her cloak’s hood just as they reached the edge of the forest. Which was much less menacing in the bright light of day, although once the buzzing began to be heard the three of them became more wary. The road remained clear, though, the sun kept shining through the trees where it could…but then Adam started and pointed into the shadows.

There were ghosts there, watching them pass. He and John looked at each other, and then they both shrugged and acknowledged their dead watchers with a nod or a wave as they passed. This seemed to cause some surprise, but a few returned the gesture and vanished while others seemed unmoved. They kept riding. “Adam, there are too many ghosts here,” John said quietly. “I don’t pretend to know much about it, but wouldn’t that mean…”

“…That they must have died – or been killed – someplace nearby? Yes, I think so. Why so many, though? This place isn’t all too near the sea, if our map isn’t wrong, but most of them resemble our seaman from last night.”

“And why here, in the woods?” John concurred. And then he remembered their visitor’s warning from the night before and had a horrible thought. He slowly glanced up, peering into the shifting green canopy above their heads, and Adam saw his eyes widen behind his glasses. He shook his head just short of violently when the prince started to open his mouth. “Elsa,” he said, “hide your face in my shoulder, and don’t lift your head until I say you can.”

The choked horror in his voice made her obey him without question, her arms tightening around his waist until Adam was amazed he could breathe. The prince steeled himself and looked up. At first, he didn’t see anything…and then he did.

Boots. Rotted from long exposure to the elements, but not so much as to make them fall apart and disappear due to the protection afforded by the thick, close branches. Dangling like some horrible rotten fruit, dozens of them. He swallowed, trying not to be sick. “My god. Do you think that village…”

“If they had any part in this, I hope they all died of a bursting plague,” was John’s hoarse reply. “They’d have to have been monsters, absolute monsters.”

“Can’t we…”

“Adam, it would take an army of men to dig this many graves – we don’t even have a proper shovel.” This time John was the one who swallowed, as a rather large pair of boots was sagging into view very near him, white bone and parchment flesh showing through rents in ragged pants which still retained a hint of blue. “No wonder they don’t like travelers passing through, much less camping here. This is a graveyard.”

“Aye.” The new voice startled them. A very large ghost had appeared right beside the road, no doubt the previous owner of the large boots. He’d obviously been a massive man in life, tall and broad with a vast grizzled beard and a florid complexion. His pants were indeed a rich shade of violet blue. He shrugged. “Took four of them to string me up, and one burst his shoulder doin’ it so he weren’t no good for anything afterward. I’ve always been rather proud of that.”

“I…I would be too,” John told him. “Can we…can we ask what happened?”

The ghost shrugged. “Ye can, but I won’t tell you in front of the little missy there. I’d agree with you about the burstin’ plague, though.” He waved a large, vague hand at the woods. “Happened o’er many years time, not all at once.”

“I think we can guess what was going on, then,” Adam said, having turned his horse so he could better speak to the ghost – and be nearer to John and Elsa, just in case. “Is there anything we can do? Because John’s right, there’s no way the two of us would be able to bury all of you, but I don’t like leaving you…”

“Hangin’?” The ghost boomed out a hollow but still cheerful laugh. “Oh, that be a good one, boyo!” He seemed to be considering something, and then he peered around John at Elsa, who was peeking at him with one frightened blue eye. “Little missy, it’s all right.” He held out a cautioning hand when she started to lift her head. “Careful there – you can look at me, just don’t look up. Me mortal remains ain’t no sight for the likes o’ you – I weren’t even no beauty in life, an’ death ain’t kind to a body. Now, if ye don’t mind…what were ye doin’ last night? I’d never seen a thing like it.” Elsa adjusted her hood, then held out one hand and made a little snowball…which then melted down into a tiny ice statue of him. He moved closer to examine it, then laughed again. “That’s prob’ly the smallest I’ve ever been in me life! An’ you even got me beard, what a wonder that is.” He made a movement as though patting her hand with his ghostly one. “Yer a sweet little missy, you are. I’m sorry we upset you last night – we’d no way of knowin’ you weren’t ones who’d ignored the warnin’s and deserved it. Now, you hold tight to yer wee little man there and keep ridin’ out the road, you need to be clear of the trees afore sunset. And if you boys are serious about helpin’…” Adam and John both nodded, and he smiled. “Well then, turn an’ wait just outside the edge of the forest for me to come, per’aps there’s somethin’ ye can do for us after all.”

He disappeared, and so did most of the watching ghosts. Surprisingly, Elsa slid off Sven’s back before John could stop her and placed the little ice statue against the trunk of the tree the ghost had appeared in front of. Her little gasp said she’d caught sight of what was hanging in the tree as she climbed back up, but she didn’t say anything, just buried her face in John’s shoulder again. He patted the arm that was wound around his waist, ignoring the cold seeping through his clothes. “That was nice of you, Princess. And it really was a good likeness.”

And then he bit his lip and ignored the icy tears soaking into the shoulder she was using, and with a nod to Adam they continued on their way.

 

The sun was a double hand-span above the horizon when the finally exited the forest, and after a bit of searching they found a good spot to wait in, dismounting and letting the horses crop the short grass and drink from a small stream while they themselves stretched and drank some of the water as well. The large ghost showed up a bit later, once the shadows were deep enough for him to appear in, and he had their other ghostly visitor with him. Adam at once got to his feet and bowed to them both, as did John. “Gentlemen.”

The larger of the two ghosts snickered. “Ain’t never been that, boyo, but good evenin’ to you all the same. Now, are ye still wantin’ to help us?”

“If we can we’d like to, yes.”

The smaller ghost nodded approvingly. “Good thought, to qualify that. Some will take advantage if you’re not careful what you promise.” He straightened. “You said you’d a map; can you show us what route you’re plannin’ to follow from here?”

“Certainly.” John pulled out the map and brought it to him, holding it in one hand and tracing the route with his finger. “We’re heading down this way at the moment, because someone told us it was a common route for well-to-do travelers in the past and we’re hoping someone might remember a certain royal party which passed through some time back.”

“Hmm.” The ghost was shaking his head. “No, that won’t do – and not only because it wouldn’t suit our purposes, either. I know the place they’re thinkin’ of, and you’ll not get answers out of those who live there unless you’ve a wagonload of gold to pay for it – we always avoided the place except to trade, and they’d make us stay outside the gates for that.”

“Oh, that place.” The larger ghost nodded, making a face. “No, those people’ve got their noses so far in the air they’re snortin’ clouds out of the sky, yer better off not exposin’ the little missy to that sort of human ugliness. If you go this route, though…” He traced a different path with his finger, one which led down to the sea and then beside it. “We’d use this one ourselves, and there’s little villages aplenty there where someone might recall a royal party passin’ through an’ be happy to tell you about it – they’re that bored when the fish aren’t in, an’ they’re hospitable folk too, or at least they were in my day.”

“Aye, that’s a good route,” the other ghost agreed. “Safer, too – there’s highwaymen out near the other, an’ some of them are king’s soldiers to boot.” John and Adam both looked horrified by that, and he smirked. “I’d always heard Valeureux was a nicer sort of place, looks like I heard right. Don’t you worry about it, boys, if you follow our route you won’t see any of ‘em.”

“Keep the little missy on your horse, though,” the large ghost warned John. “She’s safer there if you meet someone on the road.”

Elsa pouted at him. “I can protect myself.”

That made him smile, but he shook his head. “Darlin’, you’d not know what to be protectin’ yourself from. Let yer wee little man do his job, he’d not have taken it on if he didn’t want it.”

“I wouldn’t have,” John agreed quietly. “As I’ve told you before, Princess. And that will spare the other horse in case one of ours picks up a stone or something.”

“Also a good thought,” the smaller ghost approved. “You’re not offended by bein’ called a ‘wee little man’, then?”

John shrugged. “If it was coming from a man your size maybe. From a man his size? He’s just stating a fact.”

The larger ghost grinned. “I like you, boyo – an’ always remember, many a tiny wee man has taken out giants where larger men have failed from trustin’ their strength too much. Yer mind should always be the first weapon ye reach for.” He backed up a step and waved one hand, and a small knot of fireflies descended from the trees. “All right, I’m goin’ to show ye my idea. If it works, you’ll be doin’ us such a service I’ll bless yer names for eternity from the afterlife – I’m that sick of this bloody forest.” The fireflies buzzed around a bit, then formed the illusion of a clear ball which seemed to be filled with…more fireflies? “Little missy, can you make a ball like this, all hollow-like, that we could put somethin’ into? An’ could you keep it from meltin’ until you reach the sea?”

Elsa moved closer, taking a better look at the illusion. “I could make a ball, but won’t they freeze if you put them in there?” Then she blushed. “I’m sorry about…the ones last night.”

“Don’t be,” the smaller ghost reassured her. “We were attackin’ you, and that unfairly – you’d a right to defend yourself.”

“And these won’t be wee little flyin’ bugs, whether they look the part or not,” the larger ghost told her. “The ones you’re seein’ now are, same as the ones from last night, because that’s the only way we can be seen is by ridin’ the wee little things, so to speak. But could you keep such a ball as this intact an’ safe all the way down to the sea?”

She nodded slowly. “I can do that. I don’t have to sit by the fire, cold doesn’t bother me.”

“It won’t be cold on this route, so you’ll only need fire for cookin’,” the smaller ghost said. “You’ll be goin’ south, so it’ll be gettin’ warmer fast.  But can you keep the ice solid all that way? It can’t open, not even the least little bit.” She nodded. “Well, then, this could work.”

The larger ghost nodded gravely. “It could – it has to. All right, then, here’s what we’ll do: Make your camp here this night, build your fire with dead wood in the rocks an’ you boys go to sleep once the moon rises. Then the rest of us will help the little missy with the ball an’ tell her where to take it, and in the mornin’ you can be on your way.”

“Straight down to the sea on the route we gave you and follow the instructions,” the smaller ghost warned. “You’ll hurt us if you don’t, and you don’t want to do that.”

“We wouldn’t _want_ to do that,” Adam insisted firmly, ignoring the threat. “We’ve no fixed schedule for our quest anyway, and it’s not like the trail we’re seeking isn’t a decade old already. Even if we find nothing in that direction, it costs us nothing to make the trip.”

The larger ghost snorted. “You’ll make a good king someday,” he approved. “If you keep this kind of thinkin’ up, that is.” He dismissed the fireflies and made a stiff sort of bow. “We’ll be obliged to ye for helpin’ us, but we’ll not be able to make good on it after so here’s what we’ll do: When you wake in the mornin’, we’ll have you provisioned for the trip so you’ll not have to stop and hunt along the way – this route is safer for ye because there aren’t that many along it, but that also means food can be hard to come by. You’ll have enough to go on, an’ probably a bit more since I doubt the three of ye eat like seamen do.”

Adam chuckled. “No, probably not.” He returned the bow. “We would appreciate that assistance, yes. I’m thinking it will take us about four days to get to the seashore?”

“Not longer than a week, dependin’,” the smaller ghost agreed. “It’s settled then.” He frowned, and then made a bow of his own. “I think I’d have quite liked you boys when I was alive.” He aimed a finger at John. “You remember what I said about them Northmen and their drinkin’, you hear? No matter what they say about it, it only takes one drink to seal a bargain and after that they’re just playin’ with you.”

John bowed back. “I’ll remember, thank you.” The ghosts disappeared, and he looked at Adam. “Well, I guess we should set up camp for the night. Those rocks over there, do you think?”

“That works for me.”

 

It didn’t take them long to set up their small camp, or to gather dead wood for their equally small fire so they could cook their dinner, and then as soon as the moon began to rise Adam and John reluctantly bedded down for the night. Neither man had thought he’d be able to sleep, but almost as soon as they’d lain down sleep descended upon them and they neither one stirred again until the light of dawn woke them.

Adam sat up and stretched, shaking his head to clear the last fog of sleep out of it. “I think we had some ‘help’ going to sleep last night, John.”

John was also sitting up, glasses in one hand while he rubbed sleep out of his eyes with the other. “I don’t doubt it, but we probably wouldn’t have slept much at all if they hadn’t. Elsa…”

“Asleep on the other side of the fire.” Adam blinked. “With tribute, it looks like.”

John put his glasses back on. Elsa was indeed asleep, peacefully asleep with the glowing round ball of ice cradled in her arms, and all around her were piled little bundles and stacks of things – not all of them food for their journey, and quite a few looking to be made with gold and ivory and a variety of precious stones. “Well, now we know where the old man’s treasure came from. Personal possessions they wish to be buried with, do you think?”

Adam nodded, biting his lip. “We’ll have to be sure to get them far enough out in the sea, then, or someone will pull them back out of the water when the tide goes out.”

There was a rough chuckle from the ball, although it was barely more than a whisper. “No need, boys, those trinkets are for the little missy. We’ve had no need of such things for more years than you’ve been alive.”

John smiled. “I’ve a good sturdy bag somewhere, I’ll pack them up safely for her. Even though she’s a princess, she’s never had any pretty treasures of her own that I know of.”

“That she hasn’t, more’s the pity.” A sound very like a yawn. “I’ll not be able to talk with ye anymore, boys, lest I go out like a blown candle. Good journey to ye.”

Elsa woke up then. “Did I hear Garreth?” She sat up, still carefully cradling the ball, and stroked one hand over it. “Naughty, you know you’ll have to conserve your strength.”

“His name is Garreth?” She nodded, and John smiled. “That was our fault, Princess. He was just letting us know that all of these pretty things are presents for you.”

She looked around herself, blue eyes widening. “Oh my…”

“I’ve a sack we can put them in, and we’ll pack them away safely so nothing is lost,” John told her, climbing to his feet. “I’ll find it as soon as I’ve cleaned up a bit in the stream.”

“I’ll go after you,” Adam told him, settling back against the rock and stretching out his legs. “So, what did we miss last night?”

Elsa stroked the ball again, and some of the lights fluttered. “Not very much. It didn’t take me long to make the ball, and then Garreth said I should go to sleep and they’d take care of the rest. They told me stories in my dreams, stories about places they’d been and the wonderful things they’d seen there. I’d seen some of them in books in the castle library.”

“Those must have been good dreams, then.”

She nodded. “They told me not to approach living seamen, though. Alonzo said some of them don’t respect women the way they should.”

That was a relief to him. “That can be true of men in many professions. It’s why John and I are so careful of you when we encounter strangers.”

“He said that too. He was born in a beautiful, romantic place called Italia, right on the sea. And Garreth said I should certainly have John take me there to see it once our quest is done.”

Of course he had. Adam had wondered if the seamen would pick up on that…situation. “Perhaps we can all go,” he temporized. “If Belle is better by then, I’m sure she’d like to see it too.” That made her frown. “What?”

“Alonzo says you’re fooling yourself about Belle. He called her a name I’d never heard before, and then Garreth yelled at him.”

Ah. “I understand why Alonzo…doesn’t like her,” Adam explained delicately. “You understand about the different social stations people have, I know.” She nodded. “Well, those stations are social because they dictate how we’re allowed to behave in society. If I were of a station like Alonzo…”

“Instead of being a prince?”

“Instead of being a prince, then we’d not have had to make up a story about Belle’s…illness, I’d have in all likelihood just thrown her out of the house and told everyone she was…well, probably the word Alonzo used. And it would have been perfectly all right with society for me to do that. But since I am a prince, I had to do what I did.”

She was still frowning. “I don’t think you’d have thrown her out of the castle.”

“I don’t know if I would have or not, because I’ve never been in a position where it was permissible to think of things that way,” he admitted.

The frown grew even deeper. “Would John have?”

Adam chuckled. “No.”

John reappeared, settling back into his spot and rooting around in their provisions bag for an apple. “I wouldn’t have done what?”

“Thrown Belle out of the house because of her…problem.”

The bookkeeper almost choked on the bite he’d just taken, but he recovered quickly. “Where in the world did you come up with a question like that?” Adam waved at the ice ball. “Oh, of course. No, Princess, I wouldn’t have. I’d probably have done exactly what Adam did and blamed it on a curse – I’d have had to, you don’t keep a royal appointment very long if you create a scandal.”

“Royal appointment?”

“How people like me get their jobs – someone appoints us to them. The Lord High Chancellor of Arendelle appointed me to be the Royal Bookkeeper, for example. He had a paper made up that explained the terms of my appointment, and then he had the other three councilors sign it to make it official. The old king, your grandfather, had done the same to appoint my father to the position years before.”

She cocked her head, puzzled. “But Adam didn’t appoint you. And he doesn’t have any councilors.”

“My kingdom works a bit differently than Arendelle,” Adam explained. “I have a small kingdom and a small castle with not too many people working in it, so if we need someone else either I hire them or Cogsworth does. I’m not sure we’ve ever had formal appointments the way the larger kingdoms do.” He stood up. “Are you back so quickly because the water’s that cold?” John nodded, and he sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll be on our way sooner and not later, then. Put an apple in the embers for me, would you? I’ll want something hot.”

John obligingly put out their fire and then tucked a few apples around the sides to heat while he started packing up their camp. He could feel Elsa’s eyes following him. “Just ask, Princess.”

“Would you take me to Italia when our quest is complete? Garreth said you should.”

He nearly dropped a water skin. “Garreth said…why did he say that?”

She blinked at him. “Because he thought I would like it, and so did Alonzo – he was born there. They said it was a beautiful, romantic place.”

Much to her surprise, he flushed and looked away. “That…wouldn’t be proper, sweetheart. Did you tell Adam about this?”

“He said we might all go, if Belle is better.”

“I’ll have to thank him for that later,” John muttered, then cleared his throat. “Then we shall just have to see, Princess. We won’t know until we get back, will we?”

She pouted at him. “It was proper for you to take me on a quest, but not to Italia? Why not?”

Oh no, there it was. He thought a moment, then knelt down and took her hand in his. “Princess, we had to leave on an _urgent_ quest, remember? We’d no time to find a proper chaperon. And it’s all right now because Adam is with us and he’s married, not to mention that, since I work for him, it’s perfectly proper for me to be here with you or to take you on a short trip – say, into the village to the bakery – so long as he approves. But as much as I’d truly love to take you to see Italia, it simply wouldn’t be proper unless Adam and Belle came along. It would only be all right if we were married, like they are.” The firefly lights in the ball were fluttering, and he raised an eyebrow. “They seem agitated.”

She smiled, stroking the ball again with her free hand. “They’re laughing. I’m not sure why.”

“They most likely think it’s all a bit silly,” he told her. “I believe Mrs. Potts and Annette explained to you the difference between being a princess and a common woman, correct?”

“Annette said it was silly too.”

Of course she had. “Perhaps it is,” he agreed. “But we’ve no choice in the matter if we don’t want to get you into trouble with the people who don’t think it’s silly. People like the councilors in Arendelle.”

That made her scowl. Why should she care what the people who’d tried to get her to kill John thought? “I don’t like them. They wanted me to marry Hans, and he was a terrible person.”

He had to chuckle. “Yes, but they paid for that.” He squeezed her hand and then stood back up, getting back to packing and finding the little sack to secure her new treasures in. “He was a worse choice than anyone knew at the time – he turned out to be working with someone else, a powerful kingdom to the West, trying to gain control of Arendelle so it could be added to their plans for empire-building. Our kingdom’s worthier citizens were quite unhappy when that came out.”

What he wasn’t telling her – and wasn’t planning to – was that said story had only gotten around to some of the kingdom’s more important ears because he’d seen to spreading it himself. He’d hoped their outrage might defuse some of the sentiment against his princess, and it had…but not enough, not nearly enough.

 

That night when they stopped to camp, Elsa curled around her icy ball of fireflies and went to sleep…only to find herself in a dream straightaway, standing on a pretty white beach with a strange-looking tree on it. Garreth appeared, looking upset, and pulled her into a strong hug. “Oh me little missy, I’m sorry. Old Garreth was thinkin’ he was bein’ funny, and that’s what he gets for thinkin’.”

She hugged him back, letting some of the upset she’d hidden before show. “I thought…it would be so nice to see Italia with John. I like traveling with John, he makes me feel…I can’t explain it, it’s a different feeling than I’ve ever had.”

Garreth frowned and pushed her back a little, looking at her searchingly, and then he laughed, just a bit, and shook his head. “Well, of all the things for me to be havin’ to explain to a little missy like you. Come over here an’ we’ll sit and watch the waves while you tell me all about this ‘different feelin’. If it’s what I think then there’s no help for it, but you’ll feel better for the tellin’. An’ I can give you at least a bit of advice for handlin’ your wee little man so’s you don’t upset him anymore unless you’re wantin’ too.”

Her eyes went wide. “Why would I want to upset John? I don’t want to upset John!”

Garreth laughed and chucked her under the chin with a callused finger. “Little missy, we’re not talkin’ about that sort of upsettin’ – this kind he’ll grow to like, because all men do whether they want to or not. And I think your friend the prince may be inclined to help ye with that as well, but ye’ll still have to go careful-like about it. ‘Cause nothin’ sours a man more than bein’ offered somethin’ he thinks he can’t have…”

 

It took them four days’ ride to reach the coast, and probably would have taken five had they not been pushing themselves to travel as quickly as they could; the weather had grown so very warm as they went farther south that Elsa had begun to fear for the ice ball she carried and the fluttering souls contained within it. They had actually come upon the sea almost unawares, riding up over a hill to find it spread out below them all the way to the horizon, waves burning with fiery color courtesy of the impossibly huge sun sinking majestically behind them. The firefly lights in the ball had grown very agitated at this, and so they’d quickly ridden down the grassy verge and then dismounted and walked out onto the sand.

Or at least, Adam and John walked out onto the sand. Elsa kept walking, a road of ice arching up under her feet with each step, carrying her over the glowing waves until she was far enough out. She held up the ball. “I’ll miss you,” she told the flickering lights. “You’ve shown me ever so much, and told me so many wonderful stories. But it’s time for you to be free now.” And with that she tossed the ball up in the air, changing it from ice to a shell of snow. The snow dissolved almost instantly on making contact with the water, and fireflies exploded out of it in a swirling, ecstatic dance…and then scattered across the waves and disappeared. All except one, that was. A single firefly flew back up and landed on the princess’s nose, glowing brightly, making her laugh before diving into the waves and vanishing as well.

Elsa walked back to the beach, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, an action which caused both John and Adam to meet her once she’d set foot on the sand again and envelop her in a comforting joint hug. She hugged them back. “Garreth said goodbye.”

“We saw.” The sun was sinking more quickly now that the bulk of it was down, so they hurried back to the horses to get a camp set and a fire built up above the tide line. Luckily there was driftwood close at hand, so by the time darkness fully fell they had a good fire burning. And by the time the moon had risen in the sun’s place, turning flaming waves to silver in her light, they were all three fast asleep.


	18. Belle and the Beast

Belle had been in the old ruin of a castle for a fortnight already and was only just starting to grow used to the invisible servants. Their hands appeared when they touched something, or tried to, and if they were in the shadows the shadows moved with them, but other than that they could not be seen at all. And when their hands touched her they were icy cold and hard.

They didn’t touch her often. She’d gotten the distinct impression that they didn’t want to. They took care of her needs without being asked but didn’t seem to like her being in their ruin of a castle at all, and since she wasn’t able to leave the grounds it was just an uncomfortable situation all around.

She still didn’t understand why, though. Why here? Why snatch her out of the castle at Valeureux and imprison her in this dead place with no explanation? Because if she was supposed to be learning a lesson, she wasn’t seeing it yet. Feeling it still, yes, but not seeing it.

Feeling it was perhaps worse. Feeling the wildness and anger of the Beast within her, and knowing that had there been any other living soul about she’d have no doubt been snapping and snarling at them constantly. Feeling what Adam felt on his ‘quest’ – which had apparently gone so wrong one night that she’d awakened screaming in fear and hadn’t been able to sleep again until sunrise, his lingering fear mingling with her own as she realized that, romantic stories aside, quests were dangerous business which the unprepared or unlucky did not return from. In any fairy tale, the successful prince always comes across the remains of all those before him who were unsuccessful.

Adam’s fear had returned that afternoon, this time tempered with a different kind of sick horror, but that had gradually faded to a sort of determined nervousness and then everything had been fine again. Something had given him a very specific direction and purpose, something important.

His determination drove her to try to find a purpose of her own. The castle was huge and mostly dark, and some of the stone had fallen apart in places, so exploring was difficult and dangerous and more than a little frightening. She’d come in through a splintering door in the rotting, overgrown conservatory, though, and found a series of little rooms which led into a relatively large room that had once been filled with books.

That was before the roof had partly caved in and the rain and snow had come. And before that, something else: A good many books were ripped apart or slashed into shreds, even fixtures on the walls had been torn down and smashed. Someone – a Beast, by the familiar look of the slash marks – had taken out their rage on this room the way they hadn’t anywhere else that she’d been so far. No, not rage…rampage. They’d gone on a rampage.

Belle had tried to piece what was left of the library back together, with only minimal success as the servants wouldn’t help her at all. In fact, they wouldn’t even come into the library, preferring to hover in the shadows of the hallway until she came back out, and then they would hover around her at a distance. She wasn’t any too fond of that, as they made a noise sometimes that was like distant whispering, just with no recognizable words. They’d shown her to a ragged but relatively intact bedchamber the night she’d arrived, but they tended to hover there too so she took to spending most of her non-exploring time in the remains of the library, poring over the few intact books in a nest made of  torn pages and the remnants of cushions from the chairs. There was a window in the library as well, and she patched and stuffed the broken glass with more torn pages to keep the increasingly cold wind out of that corner. Because she was sitting beneath the window, sitting in what light crept in that could drive the other shadow back.

The large shadow of the Beast that sometimes stalked through the library wouldn’t come near the light; it prowled up and down the broken rows of shelves, hunting something that wasn’t there.

Or maybe someone who wasn’t there. Had there been a woman here, trapped in the castle with the Beast? And if so, what had happened to her? Belle’s curiosity drove her to keep exploring higher and higher into the even more precariously dangerous towers, hoping for a room filled with magic and hints of what had been, like the Rose Room in the castle of Valeureux…but all she found were empty chambers, rotten furnishings, and cobwebs worthy to house a Royal Kingdom of Spiders.

Saying that out loud had made a hovering pair of hands clap in delight, which had startled her into a realization so horrible she’d had to grab the wall for balance. The servants. Their Beast was long dead, but the curse obviously hadn’t been broken so they’d remained trapped ever since. Not as whimsical, unaging teapots and candlesticks and clocks…as invisible, voiceless people. Kept at a distance, maybe? Separated from everything somehow, only their hands reaching into the physical world while their bodies…

She swallowed hard. The disturbing whispering was them talking. To each other? Possibly to her? But she couldn’t hear them, they were too far away.

She went back to her bedroom that night, and stayed there. She started speaking to them, too, making an effort to be friendly rather than merely polite – after all, she wasn’t the mistress of this castle, and they hadn’t asked her to become their guest. And she stopped exploring the towers and ventured lower, into the places where the servants would have worked and lived when they were alive.

The servants’ quarters in this castle had been small and mean and poorly furnished, and here again were signs of a Beast’s rampage. Broken furniture, torn rotted cloth, claw marks sunk deep in wood and stone – and even teeth marks in a few places. Another realization began to grow: This Beast had not been some innocent child transformed by a bad fairy’s whim. Even the cursed burning she could feel inside her own breast wasn’t enough to produce such wanton, vicious fury as had caused the destruction she’d seen and, yes, the _fear_ she could now perceive in the demeanor of the barely-there servants. Whoever this man had been, she had a feeling his nature hadn’t been a kind or good one even before he’d been transformed. Becoming a Beast had made an already bad man into a monster.

It had mainly made Adam cranky and hot-tempered, a feeling she now understood all too well. But no matter what he thought about what he’d been during those dark years, he’d never been a monster.

Belle went back upstairs to the library and stood in the doorway, watching the shadow prowl. “You deserved it, didn’t you?” she asked it, almost hearing the snarl in response. “Were you maybe already a monster, then?” It roared silently and stalked toward the doorway instead, and she shook her head. “This is a stone room – most libraries are, to keep fire from the books. But they’re also quite good at keeping fire in.”

Which was when she threw the rusty lantern in her hand into her papery nest under the window, oil splattering everywhere. The fire caught immediately, and she closed the ironwood door on the shadow which was now shrinking back from the quickly-growing flames and their shadow-destroying light. She nodded to the servants wringing their hands nearby. “I’m sorry for the mess that will make, but…well, I was angry.” The hands stopped wringing, and one of them pointed to her chest. Belle sighed and nodded. “Yes, I have part of the curse too. The fairy who gave it to me sent me here.” The pointing hand reached out then, tentatively, and gently pressed her shoulder in commiseration. Belle smiled. “Thank you, but don’t feel sorry for me. I broke this same curse your master had when it was on the prince of my kingdom…and then I behaved so horribly I drove him away and a different fairy came along and cursed me to have a Beast of my own as punishment.” She made a face. “I’d never realized…Adam was just a boy when he was cursed, a child. He never had it in him to be a true monster, as Beast or as man.”

The hand patted her shoulder again, then held itself out. Belle swallowed and took it, coldness chilling her skin, and the invisible servant led her away from the library and back downstairs. More servants followed, their distant whispering becoming almost loud, there were so many of them speaking at once. Down into the lower level of the kitchen they went, and then below it through storerooms full of long-decayed foodstuffs and finally through the wine cellar where the floor was black and sticky from the congealed contents of burst bottles and casks.  A crate was moved, and a hidden door in the floor revealed; opened, it led down into blackness. And then the whispering stopped, and the invisible servants waited.

Belle took a deep breath – almost immediately regretting it due to the stench of rot which permeated the cellar – and approached the black hole in the floor, seeing a ladder. They wanted her to go in, to see…what? Something important, obviously. Something they’d hidden from their master? That was likely as well. She tested the ladder to make sure it would hold her weight, then went down into what turned out to be a tiny room barely high enough for her to stand upright in; Adam would have had to stoop. A candle on a crude table burst into life, revealing an aged but intact leather-wrapped journal, a long-dry ink bottle and a dust-rotted quill.

And on a rough cot against the wall, the body of the Beast’s final prey, now reduced to a parchment-covered skeleton crowned with faded golden hair. She’d been dressed like a princess in watered silk and fine lace, although whether she had been royalty or not was anyone’s guess – the enchanted wardrobe at Valeureux had once dressed Belle the same way. The rotted remains of this gown were tellingly ripped, though, and even more tellingly stained, and many of the visible bones were broken.

He’d caught her, then. He’d wanted…Belle clapped a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from becoming sick and defiling the poor woman’s final resting place. He’d wanted…what Belle had thought she herself wanted, and when it hadn’t been given, he’d taken it. The horrified servants had spirited his victim away, hiding her from him, and while he rampaged through the castle searching for her she’d died here in this hole of a room, hurting and broken and terrified. And alone, because even had a servant stayed with her she wouldn’t have been able to see or hear them or even know they were near save for the touch of an icy cold hand.

Belle sank down on the stool which was before the table, shaking, the memory of the ice statue taunting her. No wonder she’d been punished; she’d rejected the man she’d once professed to love in favor of a fantasy, a fantasy which had only not become this same horrible, deadly reality because Adam even as a Beast would never have done such a thing. The worst Adam had ever done to her was roar and carry on and put her in a dungeon which his servants had promptly let her right back out of. They’d spoiled her, pampered her…but that because they’d been bored, and because the curse was nearing its end and they were desperate to have their prince and themselves freed. They’d known what he’d become hadn’t been his fault.

The candle flickered, and the journal opened. “An Account of the Terror of Ballanshire, Set down so that others may know of the Curse of the Beast and what was wrought by it,” she read, and the whispers from above increased to a louder but still incomprehensible murmur. “You want me to read it out loud?” The hand that patted her shoulder made her jump, but she nodded. “I can do that. Should I take the book upstairs?” The hand squeezed a warning, and she nodded again. “You’re right, it should stay here where it’s safe. May I have a glass of water? I don’t want to have to stop if my throat becomes dry.”

The water was brought, and she took a sip and started to read. “Here lies the only account the world will ever know of what transpired in Ballanshire after the curse of the Dark Fairy was cast upon our master. Our lord was ever a hard man, and his wants were many and must needs be satisfied with swiftness so as to avoid arousing his anger…”

   “…And the curse fell like a chopping blade on us all, for the Dark Fairy said that as our hands had helped him with his wickedness they should be bound to continue serving him always…”

   “…Our master became more beast than man with each passing season, and we began to fear more the promised cure for the curse than we did its expiration. For the only way for him to be freed was for one to come who would find love for him and cause him to feel such in return. But our master had never felt an emotion so tender as that, he was filled with the darkest of passions only…”

   “…One more traveler, a merchant, had stopped here all unawares, although we had done our best to allow this once proud castle to fall into a frightening, inhospitable ruin. A storm drove him to take shelter here, and our master for his own amusement plied the man with wine and tempted him with a handful of the useless gold we have in such plentiful amounts. He wove a tale of a curse to be broken only by taking a wife, and offered a handsome bride-price and favors to come if one of the man’s daughters were to be sent to him. We had hoped the man would ride on his way and only remember his near escape, but his memory of the gold was stronger and less than a fortnight later he returned, bringing with him an innocent young daughter to barter…”

   “…His body lies in the farthest corner of the dungeons, broken and torn and we fear partially eaten. Our master has told the girl her father has gone to fetch the rest of the family to be a wedding party…”

   “…We can only watch as he stalks her through the castle, as her fear grows and the shadows lengthen. It is for his amusement that he does this. The girl begins to ask why her father has not returned, and our master is growing angry…”

   “…He came for her in the library, where she was wont to sit and read as it is a pleasant, quiet room. He locked the door and forbade us to enter, and he stalked her between the shelves while telling her all the truth of what he had done and what his intentions were for her as he was tired of waiting and she was to become his wife that very night. She jumped from the window to escape him, perhaps thinking to take her own life, but she was only injured and he leapt after her into the garden. It was the following morning before he left her and we were able to come to her aid, but it was obvious even then that she would die. And for all our other sins in his service we could not bear to allow him to come for the poor broken creature again, so we hid her in the oldest cellar and removed every trace which might lead him to discover her whereabouts…”

   “…He rages like a mad god above while I sit with her and write this account, that others may know of the horrors we have endured and perhaps find some way to prevent them from coming again. Do fairies die? For if not, the Dark One may well enact this curse again on some other soul and the horror will begin anew. Some of my fellows’ screams ring in my ears – he can apparently harm us by tearing off our hands if he chances to get one in his grasp, we had not known that…”

   “…She is dead. The very stones of the castle shuddered as though they thought to fall upon us, and as this is surely near to the last day of the curse I fear what it might mean. I am told he has retreated to the library again and is destroying it in a frenzy of rage, but if the day of deliverance has indeed come upon us then he will soon be dead and rot like any wild beast fallen in a field. What will become of us after that I do not know.”

Belle had come to the end, but turning the blank page revealed one last message, and with that she knew what needed to be done. She stood up, carefully easing the stiffness which had come on her from sitting so long on the hard stool, closed up the book and then with one last long look at the body of the girl whose death had sealed the curse she laid the candle on the book so that the flame licked at the dry leather and started it smoldering. Then she quickly climbed back up into the wine cellar, leaving the door open and walking back out into the fetid, rotting mess that was the storerooms. What she wanted would not rot. She found it and politely requested that the servants take it up to the Great Hall for her, and then asked that every lamp and candle be brought as well.

The barrel of oil was waiting for her when she made it back up the stairs, and there was a heap of candles and a pile of lamps besides. The servants were all there, waiting; some, she saw, had only one hand to show and she became even more decided that this end should not wait even one more day to come. Belle filled each lamp to the brim and then lit them, directing servants to take one to each tower and smash it on the stairs, making sure the fire caught on the dry webs which curtained every nook and cranny. She took the rest into every room on the ground floor and did the same, and she opened the library door to the hungry conflagration which was raging within but had been stalled by the slow-to-burn ironwood. The candles were lit and given into each pair of hands which remained, with instructions to take them down into the servants’ quarters and set the ragged linens and soft-rotted woods there afire. And then she walked out of the hall, and out of the castle with the near-empty cask of oil and a single burning candle and lit all the dead winter brush that surrounded the crumbling walls, even to the trees that grew near them.

And the castle of the Beast of Ballanshire burned. Belle retreated to the woods that edged the castle’s grounds and gardens, found a place to wait and watched as the fire grew like a live thing and devoured the cursed dwelling which had stood for far too long. She knew books, and therefore writing, and the handwriting in the journal had been in a style not less than a hundred years old. Even one more day of letting the lingering evil of the curse continue would have been too many; the servants of the Beast of Ballanshire deserved their freedom, just as Adam’s servants had.

The castle burned like a torch all night, putting off such a generous amount of heat that Belle slept comfortably in the woods. She knew some might have said she should have waited, at least tried to find a cloak or supplies before destroying the castle which had been her only shelter from the harsh winter weather of this place, but in truth she’d been afraid to. What if taking something had meant prolonging the suffering of the servants? The last entry in the journal had said, ' _Our suffering shall not end until all this be destroyed. We have tried, and we have failed. The curse will not allow us to effect our own release; no lasting damage can we do direct unto any thing within this rotting carcass unless we are so ordered_.'

She waited out all that day, watching the fire, making sure no well-meaning traveler came along and tried to put it out. By that evening little was left save tumbled piles of charred stones and great drifts of ash, and no movement which might have been any of the servants was to be seen. Belle found a strong branch and went closer again, using it to stir glowing, choked embers and knock over still-standing stonework. A noxious smoke was rising out of the lower chambers as the rot and ruin hidden there smoldered, too damp to burn quickly. She walked around the remains of the castle one more time, knocking down whatever she found, and then went back to the heat-cracked front steps with their fallen doors to see if she could encourage them to burn more.

There was a horse waiting before the steps, looking for all the world as though he’d just been brought around by a stablehand. Belle started, looking around. No one else was in sight. “Is someone here? Don’t go into the castle, it’s dangerous!”

Nothing but the wind answered her, and she shivered. The horse looked at her sidelong and pawed one hoof on the ground, and she approached him cautiously. He looked fresh, not sweaty at all, and there was a lamp fastened to the saddlebags and a length of gray wool lying draped across the saddle. The wool turned out to be a cloak, plain but warm and well-made, and to it had been fastened a note in familiar, old-fashioned handwriting on a singed piece of paper: ' _Find your way back home in safety, My Lady, with our grateful thanks_.'

Belle buried her face in the folds of the cloak and cried like a child. She did not notice – and would not, for several days – that she could no longer feel the Curse of the Beast burning within her.


	19. Castle by the Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Note: Prince Eric has an actor, his name is[Greg Burke](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0121695/)._

Traveling by the seashore turned out to be markedly different than going overland. The horses liked walking on the beach, but the shifting, sinking nature of the sand made them tire faster. Food was fairly easy to come by, but water had to be rationed carefully and harvested whenever possible from any small fresh streams they passed draining into the salty waves. Salt, a precious commodity everywhere else, was simply found lying in little depressions on the beach as though waiting for someone to pick it up; John had gathered a small paper full of it just on general principles. What few people they met were sea-weathered and rather salty themselves but not at all unfriendly, and they were more than happy to share their stories with a new set of listening ears. In one small village an old man even thought he remembered a ‘couple of fancy people on horseback’ passing through many years before, although he could not remember in which direction they’d been heading, just that they’d refused to give a destination when asked where they were going, which was what had made him remember them.

What was truly odd about that story, however, was the old man’s assertion that the pretty lady he remembered had looked and spoken like Elsa and John rather than Adam. “Ye can always tell ‘em from the North,” he’d explained with a wink. “They says all their words funny and round-like.”

That night around their fire, and this time with a little berm of ice-hardened sand protecting their camp as they’d been warned that ‘the crabs were spawning’ and would be coming up the beach with the tide, Adam was still considering that. “So we’ve possibly found the trail of one set of parents, just not the ones we thought to find.”

“Possibly not,” John countered. “Your mother was a foreign princess, Adam, remember? It’s possible she was from the North – it’s also possible that old man was confused by seeing Elsa, as by this point in his life one pretty blonde lady on the beach might well resemble another to him.”

“True. And my mother was blonde, like me only bright instead of dark, although my father wasn’t and his father before him hadn’t been either.” He smiled at Elsa, who was combing out her hair so she could braid it back up. “I remember watching her brush her hair like that when I was very small, it looked like a waterfall of gold to me.”

Elsa hit a snag, and John took the comb – a fine one of carved ivory and silver gifted to her by the ghosts – and worked the tangle out for her before handing the comb back. “Elsa’s sister Anna has brownish-gold hair, as did their mother, but the king’s was nearly black. The portraits of the royal family in the palace showed most of them with brown-gold hair as well.”

“They’re all gone?”

John shrugged. “There was a plague, years and years before I was even born, but the census records show that it decimated the population of Arendelle. The king and queen and four of their children all fell victim to it, Elsa’s mother was the only one of that family left. My father survived, of course, and he told me that the remaining courtiers tried their best to prepare Princess Astrid to assume the crown – she’d been a middle daughter, not expected to ever take the throne – but she was headstrong and wanted nothing to do with it. So they started looking for someone who could do the job to marry her off to instead, but she wasn’t pleased by any man they found until Elsa’s father showed up and then she insisted she’d not have anyone else. Father thought they let her have him just to put an end to the matter. He mostly let the councilors run things anyway.”

“Where did he come from?”

Another shrug. “No idea, it’s not written down anywhere that I’ve ever seen, and nobody ever spoke of it that I ever heard. I honestly don’t think anyone cared at that point. He claimed to be some king’s younger son and she was willing to marry him, that was good enough.”

 

A few days later they were walking the horses down the verge of a rock-strewn cove when they saw a man walking on the beach as well, coming from the opposite direction. The man waved when he saw them, so they waved back and weren’t too surprised when he moved to intercept them. He was a handsome dark-haired man about Adam’s age, and although his clothing was in the simple style of a seaman it was far too fine to belong to one. “Hello!” the man greeted them happily. “Are you here to visit Lady Vanessa?”

“I’m afraid we don’t know anyone by that name,” Adam told him. “Is she the owner of the palace I see farther down the beach?”

“She is,” the man confirmed. “That’s where I’m staying – I was shipwrecked, her ward found me on the beach some little distance up the cove where the rocks are.” He bowed. “Prince Eric, at your service.”

Adam bowed back. “Prince Adam of Valeureux, and my companions Princess Elsa and John Kepperson, our Royal Bookkeeper.”

Eric bowed again. “I’m Prince Eric,” he repeated. “So you weren’t coming to visit Lady Vanessa?”

Adam exchanged a look with John, who shrugged. “I suppose we could, as we’re already here,” he said. “We’re following the trail of my parents, a man in one of the fishing villages remembered a couple who might have been them passing this way some years past.”

“Do you think they came to visit Lady Vanessa?”

“Perhaps they might have,” John told him when Adam didn’t appear to know what to say. “Does Lady Vanessa receive a lot of visitors?”

Eric shook his head. “No, I believe I’m the only one.”

Elsa tried this time. “Doesn’t she like visitors?”

“Well, she likes me being a visitor,” Eric told her. “I don’t know about any others, as she hasn’t had any while I’ve been here.”

“How long have you been here?” Adam wanted to know. “You said you were shipwrecked, were you the only survivor?”

Eric shrugged. “I’m the only one her ward found, so I’d assume so. As to how long I’ve been here, though…perhaps a few days? I’m not really sure. Lady Vanessa is delightful company, though.”

“She must be,” John murmured under his breath. Which the strange prince apparently heard anyway, because he nodded most enthusiastically. John cleared his throat. “Prince Adam, I’m not sure we should intrude on the Lady Vanessa, it sounds like she…may have her hands full with her current guest.”

“Well, sometimes she does, but not all the time.” Eric’s dark eyes went wide. “Why, you don’t think she’d want to do that with both of you as well, do you?”

Elsa and John both went red – for different reasons, and Adam just hoped Prince Eric didn’t notice the sharp little icicles protruding from the princess’s suddenly clenched fist. He shook his head quickly. “No, I don’t think she would – that would be most irregular and highly unlikely.” He really needed to have a talk with Elsa sooner and not later, he decided, if just the mention of some other woman possibly taking an interest in John could cause a reaction like that. Thank goodness she hadn’t noticed the…interest expressed in that direction by some of the female servants in the Castle of Asher, and John himself had been mostly oblivious to it as well. He shook his head again. “I suppose since we’re here, and we’ve met you, Prince Eric, we really should stop and pay our respects to Lady Vanessa. We’ll be sure to let her know we don’t want to intrude, though.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t be. Things are rather boring around here right now.” Eric thought for a moment – it didn’t look like it came easy to him – and then nodded. “I’ll just go back and let her know you’re coming. That way if she doesn’t want visitors I can come back out and tell you so.”

“Perfect,” Adam assured him. “We’d appreciate that, thank you.” He watched the other man hurry back up the beach with a rather disbelieving expression on his face. “I…am really not sure what to make of that, I’m really not.”

John shrugged. “Maybe he was injured when he was shipwrecked? I’ve heard a head injury can make a person go a bit off.”

“I suppose that could be it – either that or his kingdom isn’t missing him all that much.”

“Point.” John shook his head, frowning. “I’m worried about stopping to visit this palace, Adam. This Lady Vanessa will be obligated to ask us to stay once he tells her we’re here, and I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He waved a hand at the pretty little palace perched on a rise just above the beach. “That’s too close to the water and sitting right on top of the sand, from what I can see. We have buildings on the coast back home, of course, but they’re supported by piers with very thick wooden posts sunk deep into the ground because the sand shifts so with the pull of the tides.”

Adam considered that – and the idea that John had no doubt also noticed Elsa’s jealousy-induced icicles – but he didn’t see a way out of visiting now that they’d been met and probably announced. “We’ll be careful,” he said. “And if things look odd, we’ll leave.”

 

It ended up not being that simple, of course. Lady Vanessa looked to be just a few years older than Adam, with curling dark hair, a voluptuous figure, and a sweet voice that seemed rather at odds with the sharpness of both her features and her words. She appeared none too happy to have visitors, but she still insisted that they at least stay the night before continuing on their journey and they couldn’t politely refuse. Something odd was very obviously going on, however. Lady Vanessa was almost shockingly overt in her attentions to Prince Eric, although luckily for her she seemed to have no interest in Adam or John at all – although her offhanded question about whether Adam and Elsa’s ‘servant’ would be sleeping in the stable with their horses had almost gotten her up close and personal with Elsa’s magic anyway. She’d been suitably apologetic when Adam had somewhat stiffly corrected her, however, and had gone back to what she was doing – or at least, trying to do – with the prince. Her supposed ward was a little limping red-haired girl called Ariel who couldn’t talk and who was mooning after said prince as well, a situation he seemed oblivious to, treating her like a little sister or a pet; the overly-amorous Lady Vanessa, on the other hand, never wasted an opportunity to put the girl down or taunt her somehow. And Prince Eric also seemed oblivious to the reality of his own situation –– no trying to contact his people or even speaking about them, he seemed far too content for a high-ranked shipwreck victim stranded on foreign shores.

Of course, Lady Vanessa’s…attentions may have had something to do with that, but John and Adam didn’t really think so. “I still think something’s wrong with him,” Adam said after they’d extricated themselves from the palace on pretense of having a walk on the beach before dinner. “He just doesn’t act…well, like he’s quite all there.”

“No, he doesn’t, does he? And she’s…well,” John colored up just a little bit, “somewhat inappropriate in her attentions to him.”

“ _Somewhat_?” Adam snorted. “You’re too polite, John. She was hanging off him like fruit on a tree, it was all I could do not to clap my hand over her ward’s eyes.”

Elsa was frowning as she listened to this conversation. She’d been unhappy and more than a little agitated in the palace – one reason John had decided a walk before dinner was needed – and she was still upset by what she’d seen and heard. Finally she put her hand on John’s sleeve to get his attention. “Why isn’t he asking her to kill him?”

Adam’s mouth dropped open, but John just patted her hand. “You mean, like the blue butterfly did?” She nodded. “The blue butterfly was created out of water and ice, Princess; it didn’t ask to be alive, and it didn’t want to be alive. Prince Eric was already alive.”

She cocked her head. “So he asked her to make him alive, and that made it all right?”

“Her…Lady Vanessa?”

“No, Ariel.”

This time John’s mouth fell open. Adam had recovered himself by this time, though, and touched her arm to get her to look at him. “Sweetheart…are you saying the prince isn’t actually alive? That Ariel made him alive – not just by pulling him out of the ocean so he wouldn’t die, but by doing…something after she pulled him out to make him live again?”

Elsa nodded. “You couldn’t tell?”

John found his voice, traded a look with Adam. “No, I think you must have to…have that kind of magic to be able to tell. What else have you noticed that we haven’t?”

She thought. “Well, the palace isn’t real, it was made by magic – it’s made of sand and water and things you’d find in the water, enchanted to look like it isn’t. And the voice Lady Vanessa is using isn’t her own.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Do you think Lady Vanessa knows the prince isn’t really alive?” Elsa thought again, then shook her head. “So she has magic, but not that kind. Is there magic on Ariel too?”

But John beat her to it. “Her legs,” he said. “She walks like she’s still learning to do it, and like it hurts her to do it. So she’s really…”

“A mermaid. A teenage mermaid with a crush on…oh dear god, she probably doesn’t even realize she brought him back, she must have found him underwater and dragged him back to shore.” Adam shook his head. “She’s a little girl with a crush. And she wanted to join him on land…”

“So she traded.” John was nodding. “Her pretty voice for legs – or at least the illusion of legs, anyway, it would be some pretty shitty magic that would make real legs that don’t work right.”

“Or some pretty evil magic. Lady Vanessa seems to really like using that beautiful voice to entice the prince, doesn’t she?”

“She does.” John thought for a moment. “How old is Ariel, do you think?”

Adam snorted. “My guess is around fourteen, not older than fifteen or sixteen at the most, but she probably lied to the witch and made her think she was older.” John started to smile. “What?” Then he got it. “Oh…oh yes, exactly!”

Elsa was looking back and forth between them, confused. “What is it?”

“An illegal contract,” Adam told her, smiling now himself. “She’s a little girl, Elsa, she’s not old enough to make a contract. Which means the contract can be voided, it’s not legal.”

“And which means that we should be able to get whoever’s responsible for her to come settle things,” John added. He laid a gentle hand on Elsa’s arm. “Princess, let’s send someone a message, shall we?”

The sun was still a handspan from setting, and the ocean’s blue-green waves were restless and sharp-tipped. They made sure they were out of view of the palace and then John had Elsa lob a few ice-cannonballs into the water, followed by a fat, hollow tube of ice once one of the balls was violently fired back up out of the waves. “Hello!” John yelled into the tube. “Sorry about that, but we need to talk to a girl named Ariel’s parents!”

A distorted, heavily accented voice echoed back faintly a few moments later. “ _You want to speak wit King Triton?_ ”

“We didn’t know he was a king,” John answered. “But we think his little girl is in over her head, she seems to have brought a dead man back to life and now some witch is trying to get him to sleep with her.” Some sort of roar came back, and the ice-tube vibrated into pieces. John shrugged. “I’m guessing that was Daddy and we’ll be seeing him soon.”

“Really soon,” Adam said, pointing. A large, bearded head appeared above the waves, then ducked back under and a large finned tail flicked up. The head reappeared near some rocks, and muscular arms levered a broad-shouldered body connected to a powerful fish tail up onto them; one hand was holding a trident, and the merman used it to point at them. “My daughter did _what_?!”

“We don’t think she knows she did it, Your Majesty,” John quickly disclaimed. “My name is John Kepperson; this is Princess Elsa and Prince Adam. We were on a quest when we ran into this situation and decided that someone needed to get hold of Ariel’s parents – Princess Elsa has powers like that, and she didn’t understand what she was doing at first either.”

King Triton considered that. “I’ve heard of that sort of thing, but I’ve never known anyone who could do it.” He raised an eyebrow at Elsa. “You didn’t know?”

She shook her head. “I made a snowman, to be my friend. And then I made a blue butterfly out of ice…but it begged me to kill it. John explained why.”

“Hmm.” The king thought some more, then nodded. “Probably a water power, then – for you it works with fresh cold water, ice and snow, so for my daughter…she must have used the seawater in the drowned man’s body. Without knowing she was doing it,” he hastened to add when Elsa looked alarmed. He held out a hand, and she came closer and took it; he looked into her eyes and then shook his head. “Poor child,” he said softly, letting go of her hand to pat her hair. “It’s all right, my dear, there’s no way you could have known – this ‘gift’ is so rare most think it’s just a legend. Now,” he addressed John and Adam, “what else can you tell me?”

“We suspect your daughter entered into a contract with the witch who calls herself Lady Vanessa, her voice for legs,” Adam told him. “But Ariel doesn’t seem old enough to enter into a contract on her own.”

“Which means that if whoever’s in charge of Ariel,” John waved at the king, “calls the witch on it, the contract should be voided. And then, of course, we’ll have to deal with the dead prince they both have a crush on, who also doesn’t realize he’s dead.”

The king winced. “This is going to be an interesting discussion.” He gently moved Elsa to one side, then did something with his trident and jumped down off the rocks, striding up onto the sand on two sturdy, muscular legs. He was a giant of a man, powerful and kingly and completely naked except for the crown and jewelry he was wearing. He took the princess’s hand again. “If you gentlemen would be so kind as to lead me to my daughter, I believe we can sort this out rather quickly. I can’t stay out of the water forever,” he explained before anyone could ask, “but I’ll have plenty of time to take care of this.”

They walked back up the beach, King Triton following along behind John and Adam, asking Elsa questions as they went. The two men exchanged a look, but didn’t interfere; in this case, Elsa’s thoughts on the matter were probably more valuable to the king than theirs would be. Once they came in sight of the enchanted palace, however, the king stopped walking and scowled. “Oh so that’s it, is it?” he growled, letting go of Elsa’s hand. “My dear, stay behind me – you have great powers, yes, but you haven’t fully mastered them yet and this…witch could harm you, or cause you to harm someone else by accident. If you boys could secure the dead man?”

“We can do that, Your Majesty,” Adam assured him, and then Triton started up the hill to the castle at a run and the three of them followed him as quickly as they could.

Lady Vanessa was in the main room with Prince Eric, and when Triton burst in she screamed. “No, you can’t, we have a contract!”

The king shook his trident at her. “Ursula, the child isn’t of age to make a deal like that. The contract is void. However, if you want to keep this…man, that is your choice. If not, he must be returned to his previous state and I’ll be teaching my daughter not to make a mistake like that again.”

“Mistake?” Prince Eric was confused – especially since the two male guests had taken hold of him right after the big naked man had come roaring in. He came to a conclusion that seemed right to him and stiffened, radiating offense. “Sir, I can assure you I haven’t touched your daughter. I’d have to be blind not to see the way she looks at me, of course, but she’s just a child!”

“Nice to know you’re not as dumb as we thought,” Adam told him. “Not what he’s talking about, though.”

Elsa came in from a side door, pulling a terrified Ariel along with her. “No, he’s not,” she was saying. “He’s worried about you, Ariel – what’s going on here isn’t what you think is going on.”

The girl’s mouth opened in a silent denial of that. “It isn’t,” John assured her. “And next time don’t lie about how old you are. Although I think that’s probably not the biggest problem we have to deal with.”

“No, it isn’t,” Elsa agreed. King Triton and Lady Vanessa – whose real name was apparently Ursula – were still yelling at each other, and she frowned. And then she hit Ursula in the face with a snowball, which put an end to the yelling pretty quickly. “Stop that!” she ordered. “You have to undo it, it wasn’t legal – and you did it wrong anyway, because if you’d done it right it wouldn’t hurt her to walk.”

“You did _what_?!” King Triton bellowed. His trident was pointing at Ursula now. “Call it off, this instant!”

For a moment Ursula looked like she was going to start arguing with him again…but then the trident spat out some blue sparks and Elsa called up a ball of ice and she quailed. “All right! Fine! I declare the contract VOID!”

Several things happened all at once when she said that. A green mist of sparkling liquid magic rose up around Ariel, dissolving the dress she’d been wearing, and her legs turned scaly, green and finned before melting back into a scaled green fish tail. Her human half’s appearance changed slightly as well, eyes becoming rounder and wider, a little trail of iridescent scales running up each side of her neck across delicate fluttering gills and then up the sides of her face to disappear into her hairline. Her hair lengthened and darkened, tumbling down over her shoulders to well past her waist like fronds of curling seaweed in the shallows. The little scream she let out as she hit the floor came out as a multi-tone octave…and John and Adam both froze, their eyes going unfocused. Eric stepped away from them. “What…”

“My wife was a siren,” Triton told him. “It runs in the family. If you would wake them both up, Princess…” Elsa hit both men with a snowball and they blinked and staggered, shaking their heads. “Thank you, my dear. Ariel, not another sound – you don’t know how to control it, and mortal men aren’t meant to hear that unless you’re trying to kill them.”

The little mermaid looked horrified, and Elsa immediately knelt down beside her and gave her a hug. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“That’s true, she didn’t – she’s still in a great deal of trouble, but not for the things she did unknowingly. You, however,” he glared at Ursula, “you knew all about that. Why the hell would you want to be a siren? You pretty obviously have the same two-legs kink my little girl has picked up – and isn’t someone going to be on my dinner table when I find out where she got _that_ idea - so why would you want to lure these men you want to have your way with to their deaths?”

“Hopefully not because of an entirely different kink,” John muttered to Adam, who choked.

Triton raised a bushy questioning eyebrow at Ursula, who gasped and shook her head. “Of course I wouldn’t…with a _corpse_? That’s disgusting!”

“You sure didn’t seem to be feeling that way when we came in,” Adam pointed out. “I mean, I can see not being able to read the magic, since apparently it’s rare as hell…but how could you not notice that the man you were climbing all over doesn’t have a pulse?” Eric stared at him in shock, and he rolled his eyes again. “Okay, I am so not explaining this to Prince Clueless.”

“My name is Eric.”

Adam snorted. “I rest my case.”

This time John rolled his eyes. “Eric, think – I know it doesn’t seem to be your strong suit, but give it a try. Ariel is a mermaid, where do mermaids live? Where do you think you were when she found you?” Eric blinked at him, and John shook his head. He gave the confused dead prince a push, shoving him right into Ursula’s arms. “You know what, he’s your problem, you deal with it. Elsa, would you go upstairs and get our things while Adam moves the horses? I don’t think this palace is going to be here much longer, you might need to stabilize the floor if it starts to turn back into sand.”

She frowned. “You want to talk about something you don’t want me to hear.”

“Yep, sure do.” He walked over and kissed her cheek. “I _will_ explain it to you later, but right now we need to get this settled and get out of here – I have no desire to be buried in a collapsing sand castle. Okay?”

She pouted but nodded, and then Adam took her arm and they left the room. John sighed. “Now that the person who could get upset and accidentally turn you into an octopus popsicle is gone…” He pointed at Ursula’s dress, which was morphing back into tentacles. “Nice illusion, by the way. If you really want power over humans, you should market dress designs to them; fashion is one of those areas where you’re expected to be ruthless and evil. But yes, your idiot boytoy here was drowned and then magic apparently charged the seawater in his body and gave him artificial life. If it works anything like Princess Elsa’s magic does he’ll most likely stay ‘alive’ as long as you let him, but I’m not sure if he’ll stay this…fresh, if you know what I mean, without the magic around to sustain him.”

Ursula apparently did know what he meant, because she used a plump purple tentacle to hold Eric away from her, wrinkling her nose. Which was prominent and lumpy now, because her natural form was apparently a middle-aged overweight octopus woman, wide-mouthed and double-chinned. Eric himself was looking horrified. “You…but you were young and beautiful! And now you’re…” He ran his hand over the tentacle, horror abruptly mixing with a certain amount of interest. “Okay, maybe I don’t mind, at least not this part. My ship docked at this island once, and the people there had these paintings…”

Ursula’s eyes glowed, and the prince turned into a sand statue. “I hate Japan,” she growled, twitching the tentacle to make the sand lose cohesion and collapse into a pile. “Too many lonely fishermen with an artsy streak. I would never use my tentacles with a human for…that!” Ariel shrieked, and John’s eyes rolled back in his head; he collapsed. The sea witch made a face, peering over at him in concern. “He’s not dead, is he? I really don’t want to be an octopus popsicle when his little ice princess comes back.”

“He’s not dead,” Triton assured her, summoning a ball of water and dropping it on the young human, who sat up spluttering and swiping at his glasses. “See? He’s fine.” He strode over and scooped up his now-sobbing daughter. “He’s fine, little one,” he soothed. “And you didn’t know what you’d done to the other one, that wasn’t your fault.”

“No, it wasn’t.” John pushed himself back to his feet, blinking, and made his way over to Triton so he could pat Ariel’s cheek. “It’s okay, really; I understand. You’ll learn to control your powers, just like Elsa is learning to control hers. And you’ve got your father to help you, too.”

Ariel looked up at her father, who nodded. “The gift is rare, but I can teach you how to manage it,” he assured her. “You won’t have any more accidents like this. Shall we go home now? You’re grounded, and I believe Sebastian and I need to have a…conversation about the stories he tells you.” She sniffed, but shook her head and pointed at the door. Triton nodded. “Of course, we can wait until you’ve said goodbye to Princess Elsa.”

He walked out into the foyer with her, John and Ursula trailing behind. The palace was already visibly sandy, ornaments on the walls becoming more shell-like, carpets beginning to look more like sea grass and a fine rain of sand starting to fall from the ceiling. Adam was just coming back inside and Elsa appeared with their packs a few moments later, freezing the crumbling stairs as she came down to keep them stable underfoot. She frowned when she saw John. “Why are you wet?”

“It was an accident,” he told her. “It’s fine. But King Triton and Ariel need to get back home, they’re just waiting so she could say goodbye to you.”

“Oh!” Elsa handed the packs to Adam and hurried forward, giving Ariel a hug and, on impulse, kissing King Triton on the cheek. “You’’re a good father, I think,” she told him. “Please don’t punish her too much. Love can be very…confusing.”

Triton smiled and patted her cheek. “My dear, you don’t know the half of it – yet, anyway.”


	20. Mermaids

They spent the night a short distance up the beach from the pile of sand that had been the castle earlier that day, making a little fire in a pit and having an altogether uneventful evening. When Adam and John woke up the next morning, however, Elsa was at first nowhere to be seen – although her clothes had been neatly draped over a bush nearby. The two men finally spotted her out on the rock King Triton had used the day before, giggling and gossiping and laughing with three mermaids who looked to be about her own age. The four of them were alternately all doing each other’s hair, passing ornaments around, and making Elsa stand up to make adjustments to the style of her dress. Which was made of snow and ice crystals and now had a curling hem like the sea witch’s illusion had sported the day before instead of a long, flowing train. The two men went back to their little campsite and sat down again, knowing that if those were King Triton’s daughters they didn’t dare get close enough to hear their voices. John was smiling, though, and so was Adam. “I’m guessing they wanted to thank her for saving their little sister?”

“Well, she has one of those herself, so they’ve all got that in common at least.” John poked the coals of their night’s fire with a stick. “We can laze around here on the beach while she has fun, it’s not like we’re on a schedule.”

“Very true.” Adam leaned back against the ‘seat’ he’d made for himself with driftwood and sea grass the night before, getting comfortable. “I admit to being a bit worried about the gossip, though – you just _know_ they’re talking about us.”

“I’m trying not to think about it, honestly.” John frowned then, squinting. “You know, I don’t think sand is supposed to do that. Is it?”

Adam looked. There was a patch of sand slithering – there really wasn’t any other word for it – down the beach. The movement looked fairly purposeful, too. He stood up again and waved to Elsa, pointing to where the sand was at. She looked, then shrieked and shot ice at it. The three mermaids all started to shriek too, diving in and out of the waves, and after a moment there was a disturbance near the shore and the sea witch stalked up out of the water. She gave Adam and John a dirty look, but when Adam pointed to the mermaids and shrugged she rolled her eyes and went over to the moving sand, kicking at it when it tried to climb up her tentacles and doing a bit of shrieking herself. She finally gathered it all up and then shot magic into it until it turned into what looked like a ball of colored glass, which she tucked under her arm and stalked back into the water with, rolling her eyes again when the mermaids and Elsa all clapped and cheered – although she did stop for a moment to stare at Elsa’s dress. When she turned around and looked back at John he nodded vigorously and gave her a thumbs-up, which made her nod and look very thoughtful; she even waved to them before she went back into the water, and they waved back.

Adam went back to his seat and got comfortable again. “Well, that was interesting. Think she’ll start designing dresses?”

“Hopefully. She’s good at it, and it would be a lot less evil than what she was doing before.”

“True.”

They sat there and relaxed, and after about an hour more the mermaids left and Elsa came back. She was still wearing the dress, although she’d shortened it for walking through the beach grass and was now wearing ice sandals with snow ribbons that laced up her legs almost to the knee. Her hair was a white-gold waterfall down her back, woven with strings of tiny pearls and shells, and she was absolutely glowing. John swallowed the lump in his throat, but he still wasn’t able to force any words out. Luckily Adam didn’t have that problem; the prince smiled at her. “You look beautiful, Elsa – so beautiful I think you broke John, in fact.” She blushed, and John threw a shell at him, which he caught. “So, do we want to know what all the giggling was about?”

“Maybe,” she said coyly, with a flutter of eyelashes she could only have learned from the mermaids. “Adella thinks you’re pretty and said it’s too bad you’re married and human.” John couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Adam threw the shell back at him. “But Alana said John is cuter. And Andrina thought you were both cute, and she knew where Adam’s parents went.” John dropped the shell; Adam’s eyes went round. Elsa bounced. “She heard about it from a dolphin, who heard it from a seaman – and Alana said dolphins are trustworthy even if seamen aren’t, so Andrina went down and asked the dolphin again and he told her how to get there! We’ll have to figure out how to do it without swimming through the ocean, though.”

John swallowed. “I’m sure we can figure it out,” he said. A large piece of abalone shell was handed over; it had a simple map carved delicately into the pearlescent side, the lines of which had been rubbed with something black to make them stand out. “Okay, wow. This is an actual map, just from an underwater perspective.”

Adam pulled himself back together and dug their map out of his bag. He spread it out, and then John put the shell map down beside it. “Look, that has to be the coastline,” he said, pointing. “The dolphin goes around the land the way we’d go around the water. So if we match up the coastline…”

“…We can take an overland shortcut to come out where the dolphin did,” John finished for him. He traced a line with his finger. “Right there.”

Elsa circled around and leaned over his shoulder to look. “That shouldn’t take long, right? Andrina said the dolphin said it wasn’t that far.”

“Andrina and the dolphin are right, it isn’t,” Adam agreed. He glanced over, then quickly glanced away. “Um, sweetheart…your dress is melting.”

And then he laughed, because John’s squeal of alarm had been almost as loud as Elsa’s.


	21. Bad News

Four days of riding steeply northward from the mermaids’ cove brought them near to the possible end of at least one quest, but what they found when they got there made them pull up short. The little cove the mermaids and their dolphin friend had marked on the map wasn’t actually so little on the land side, as a flat field so huge it seemed to go on forever was separating them from their intended destination. It was also almost knee-deep in snow and a sharp wind was blowing across it, channeled by sheer granite cliffs on either side. “That’s more snow coming, probably quite a large storm,” John informed Adam. “We have to decide whether to go into it and hope we find someplace to shelter before it hits, or turn back and take shelter here – if we’re caught on this plain when it reaches us, we’ll die and so will the horses.”

Elsa frowned over his shoulder. “I can…”

“Princess, we don’t know if you can or not – the time to test your powers isn’t when failure could leave you all alone out here in the middle of nowhere and Valeureux without a ruler, all right?” She held him a little more tightly and he sighed. “Sweetheart…magic doesn’t mean you can stop planning and just plunge into situations without any forethought. Having magic just means you have more options for making plans than a person who doesn’t – which also means more ways that the plan can go wrong.”

“But…”

“Look what happened to Ursula, the sea witch,” Adam pointed out. “Magic was her entire plan, she didn’t think she needed anything else. So when something unexpected happened, her plan fell apart all over the place.”

“Literally,” John said. “And she just stood there with a dumbfounded look on her face, changing back into an octopus woman.”

The arms around his waist relaxed. “I think I understand. It’s all right to make a plan with magic, just as long as magic isn’t the only part of the plan.”

“Exactly right, Princess.” John cocked an eyebrow at Adam. “So, which plan should we go with now? Stay or go?”

Adam considered it. “I think we should ride on and try to beat the storm. Because if we don’t, we’re likely to be trapped anyway, and then we’d also risk running out of food. But if my parents are here…well, they have to be living in something and eating something, so we should be at least marginally better off.”

John thought it was possible they weren’t living at all, but he didn’t like to say so. And at the very least getting across the field would put them closer to the sea, which meant food would be available if they needed it. “Sounds good to me,” he said. “We should start riding, then, and get across this snowfield as quickly as we safely can. These storms can move in from the sea very quickly.” He fished a piece of rope out of his bag and tied one end to his saddlehorn, tossing the other end over to Adam. “Tie it to your saddlehorn, getting separated if the storm does catch us could be the death of us.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Elsa, if I give the word…well, be making a plan for what you can do if the storm catches us out in the open.”

“I can do that.” She sounded happy about it, in fact, and then she pulled the hood of his cloak up and adjusted the heavy fabric in the front so her arms were holding it closed. “There, now you’ll stay warmer.” He shivered just a little and didn’t say anything but he did pat her arm in thanks, and she hid a smile in his shoulder. Garreth and the mermaids had all said showing that you care was better than telling, and once she’d thought about it Elsa had realized John had always done that. He was a caring, gentle man, and so the way to ‘properly upset him’, according to Garreth, was to simply return the favor by being a caring, thoughtful woman. _If what you feel is true, little missy,_ the big seaman had said, _then havin_ _’ a care for his well bein’ and comfort – the way he does for yours – is the way to show it. Makin’ a man hot an’ bothered may be good for a quick tumble, but if yer wantin’ somethin’ more than that then what you want is to make him warm, like the glow from a good fire. A comfortable man is a happy one, and a happy one won’t be goin’ nowhere._

Elsa definitely didn’t want John to go anywhere – at least, not unless she went with him. And the idea that she could make someone feel warm…well, it was something she’d never expected she’d be able to do, and the idea that she could do it so easily was making her very happy. Hopefully it would make John happy too.

 

They were about halfway across the snowfield when Adam’s horse suddenly balked. He tried to nudge it forward, and when it tried to rear he stopped, spoke soothingly to it, and then dismounted to see what the problem was. The face he lifted to John and Elsa was wide-eyed. “Oh god, I think we’re on a frozen lake. As in right out in the middle of it. Elsa, can you tell if it’s frozen thick enough for us to finish crossing?”

She frowned, and waved to him to get back on his horse, which he did. And then she waved again and the snow moved aside, revealing the ice beneath. A patch of lighter blue-green just a foot from where Adam had been standing showed that the ice there was quite thin indeed, and there was actually a crack running back towards them. She thought about that, then raised her hand and snow began to drift back over the cleared spot, freezing into thin layers of ice one on top of the other until a white ribbon of a road had formed. “Go very slowly,” she warned. “If the horses run, it could crack.”

They immediately nudged the horses back into motion, carefully, but none of the three animals balked once they were on Elsa’s road. It was slow going, much slower than they would have liked to have gone, and the lake was apparently very large because it took them what seemed like a very long time to reach the end of the white road. They allowed the horses to take a brief rest once they were certain they were on solid ground again, and then started off at a slightly better pace through the deep snow.

The snowfield was coming to an end, fingers of rock beginning to encroach on its flat sameness as the towering cliff walls to the east drew closer to the sea, when they got their first glimpse of the palace. The sharp wind was picking up, a steady, hard blow that John said was a sign the storm was going to be harsh and most likely go on for a good while, when through the thickening snow flurries appeared slender minarets reaching for the gray cloud ceiling above them. A few more twists and turns, picking their way around the rocks, and a tower came into view, and then two more smaller ones. They were pure white, and had the sky not been so overcast they might have blended into the snow. “Well, it’s definitely a palace,” Adam said. “Hopefully it’s not a ruin.” John looked at him, and he shook his head. “I’m well aware they might be dead – I’m hoping they’re not, of course, I’m hoping this is a situation where rescuing is what’s needed, but I know it’s possible we’re not going to find anything…pleasant.”

“We’re not?” Elsa wanted to know.

“They might be long dead, Princess,” John explained. “And people who’ve been dead for a while don’t usually look like Prince Eric, or even like the old man in the hut, they look like…what we didn’t want you to see in the forest with the ghosts.  Dead bodies aren’t pretty.”

“I don’t understand.”

He considered that for a moment. “Think of a piece of fruit. It starts off pretty, but if you don’t eat it, it rots.”

“People _rot_?”

She sounded horrified, and he winced, patting her arm. “When they’re dead, Princess, only when they’re dead. Everything rots when it’s dead, unless something stops it. Like ice. One of the Northmen’s fishing boats brought a large block of ice to Arendelle once that had some sort of bear creature in it no one had ever seen before. It had been dead a long time, but the ice had kept it from rotting so it still looked exactly as it had when it had died. I remember they kept it displayed in the courtyard all winter, and then in the spring when it thawed it was butchered and fed to the dogs. We don’t do that with people who freeze to death,” he added quickly at her little gasp. “When a person is found frozen to death – in Arendelle, anyway – they thaw the person out and then burn the body.”

Now Adam was looking shocked. “You _burn_ …”

“You can’t dig graves in the winter, the ground’s too hard. So they’re burned, and then what’s left is collected and packed up into some kind of fancy container – a pottery urn unless they were important, in which case it’s usually a carved stone box. When the Lord High Chancellor of Arendelle died, he had one of marble and they made a ceremony of putting it up in the royal mausoleum. The Chancellor and I had put my father’s urn in there the year before.” Adam was still looking rather surprised. “What?”

“Your father is buried in the Royal Mausoleum in Arendelle?”

John shrugged. “He was the Royal Bookkeeper of Arendelle, appointed to the position by Elsa’s grandfather. I suppose he could have been put wherever his father had been, but the Chancellor said Father had more than earned his place with the other servants of the Crown through his dedication and loyalty over the years.”

“I’m sure he had,” Adam agreed. And then they rounded one last corner, and the palace came fully into view. His mouth dropped open. “Oh my goodness.”

The appearance of the palace was well worth some surprise. Tucked into a little half-moon cove that curved into the cliffside, it rose out of the snow very much like one of Elsa’s ice structures, pure glistening white walls forming an enclosed courtyard behind ornate gates, three towers soaring up from behind them. It was a very small palace and just impossibly beautiful against the backdrop of dark cliffs and gray-white skies, snow beginning to swirl around its towers in a lover’s dance. John swallowed. “That has to have been built by magic.”

“I think it was,” Elsa confirmed. She hugged John. “It’s so pretty!”

“It is beautiful, yes.” There was a low building around one side of the palace which looked to be a stable, sheltered and dwarfed by the cliff-side which sheltered it. Adam looked from castle to stable and made a decision. This was his quest, possibly his parents, so going in first to see what was going on inside the pretty little marble palace was his responsibility. “I’ll go in and see whatever there is to be seen,” he said, swinging down out of the saddle. “John, you and Elsa take our horses to the stable and get them taken care of before this storm gets any worse.”

John started to say something…but then he nodded and dismounted himself. “Be careful, Adam,” he warned. “If someone’s in there who isn’t your parents…well, they may not like guests much.”

“I’ll be careful,” Adam promised. “You do the same in the stable – you don’t have a letter opener with you this time.”

“I am never going to live that down, am I?”

Adam smiled. “No, probably not. Especially since I see you ripping into the official correspondence with it almost every day.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “If I find anything that’s, well, very much not alive, I’ll come back out to the stable and we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

“If you don’t come out, we’ll come in,” John agreed. “Carefully, just in case.”

“I’m hoping that won’t be necessary,” Adam said. “But yes, just in case.” And then he handed over the reins and strode over to the golden-traceried gates, which swung open at a push of his hand to allow him entrance.

 

Inside the gates was a small courtyard floored with a colorful tile mosaic which could only be seen in patches due to frozen snow. There was a path through the snow, though, drifted over but still visible, and he followed it to another set of doors. These had a knocker, which he used.

Nothing happened. When he didn’t hear anything, he cautiously pushed on one of the doors and it opened for him just like the gate had, letting him step inside onto a conveniently placed woven mat. He was standing in a white marble hall which was open all the way to the top of the middle tower, the coming storm’s fitful light spilling in through high-set windows. A set of stairs with gold-traced railings curled up on each side, presumably leading to the shorter towers, and looking up again he saw that there was a golden-railed walkway around the inside of the larger one, presumably to prevent someone on one side from having to come all the way down and back up to reach the other. No one else was around, but he could hear the sound of a fountain and what might be a slight murmur of conversation coming from behind the next set of elegant gold-and-white double doors – these were also inlaid with what looked like precious stones to mimic the design of the mosaic outside. So he walked over to these doors and knocked. This time the murmur was definitely voices, one high, one low, but nobody called out to him. Adam considered for a second, then pushed one of the doors open and looked inside.

“I hope you didn’t think we were going to come to you,” a woman’s voice huffed. “Royalty don’t open doors for people, you know.”

“Actually, I open doors for people all the time,” Adam countered, albeit politely, stepping inside. “Because the doors on my castle are so heavy half the staff can’t open them unassisted. Which is something I really ought to fix, now that I think about it.”

“Or you could just hire stronger servants,” a male voice said, sounding amused. “Well don’t just stand there, come in and introduce yourself. Royalty, you say?”

The room seemed to be some sort of solarium, not so large as Adam had expected but with great tall windows looking out at a storm-lashed garden and very inconveniently backlighting the two richly-dressed people sitting in comfortable chairs in front of them so that it was difficult to see their faces. They sounded young, the man had short dark hair and the woman’s was a cascade of curling gold pouring over one shoulder, but that was about it. He bowed. “Prince Adam, of the kingdom of Valeureux.” Silence; he looked up to see the woman with her hand over her mouth. “And you are?”

The man humphed. “Shocked, I’m sure. Aren’t you supposed to be a ravaging monster confined to an enchanted castle?”

Adam sighed. Even all the way out here… “That was a curse; it was broken. As you can see, I’m just a normal man now, not a monster any longer.”

“Astounding,” the woman breathed, having apparently recovered herself. “So you…well come closer, come closer, let us see you! We were told that curse would never be broken, you simply must tell us all about it.”

“Wait, you were _told_ …” Adam moved closer, until he was near enough to see them…and then stopped and nearly took a step back. He swallowed, remembering fireflies in a dark forest, but this room was bright… “You…how in the world is this possible? Are you ghosts?” The woman tittered and the man chuckled, shaking his head. “But you can’t be…you haven’t aged a day!”

“Oh, that – magic, of course.” The woman – his mother! – waved it away. She looked to be no older than Belle or Elsa, and definitely younger than Adam. “Well just look at you! We hadn’t expected you to grow up at all, it makes me feel quite old to know my son is such a handsome young man. And most likely married too?” Adam nodded. “Oh dear.”

“You’ll never be old, my darling Astrid,” Adam’s father assured her, standing up. He was just as Adam remembered him, only now instead of being a tall figure to look up to they were of approximately the same height. “I’ll just get you some wine, son, you look like you could use it – and I could use a drink myself. Whatever in the world are you doing all the way out here? Don’t tell me you inherited my wandering nature.”

Adam found his voice. “I…I’ve been on a quest. At least partially to find you.”

“Oh, how sweet,” his mother chirped. “Hector, I want wine too – wash the taste of oldness out of my mouth. Now, who did you bring with you? Your wife, some servants, a mistress or some other playmate, perhaps? We heard horses before you came in.”

Which apparently hadn’t made them curious enough to come out and see who it was, or even stir themselves from their chairs. Something was very, very wrong here. “I didn’t see any servants when I came in just now…”

“We don’t have any,” his father told him. “Lady Marguerite said having them here would be too much of a bother, so she enchanted the palace to do everything itself. Which is convenient, although sometimes I do miss having underlings to order about.”

“Lady Marguerite?”

His mother waved an aimless hand. “The fairy who arranged everything. You saw her when she came to the castle, I’m sure – you must have, or she couldn’t have cursed you.”

The airy, unconcerned way she said it made a chill run up Adam’s spine. That was when the door opened and Adam turned to see John and Elsa coming into the room, looking wary. They both hurried to him with exclamations of alarm when they saw his face, and he did his best to pull himself together. “It’s…we found them. They’re alive!” He accepted the hug Elsa spontaneously gave him. “They’re alive.”

“Well of course we are, we just told you so,” Queen Astrid scolded lightly…and then she got a good look at Elsa and her pretty blue eyes rounded. “Oh no. Oh _dear_.”

“Astrid, what…” Hector turned around and saw Elsa. “Oh. Well, this looks like it’s going to be awkward for everyone involved. I suppose it’s too much to hope she’s just your mistress, or that she’s with this other fellow?”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t understand. This is Princess Elsa, she’s on a quest of her own. My wife is back at home.”

“Oh thank goodness!” Astrid fluttered dramatically. “Hector, I really do need that wine now. What a shock to my system…”

But John’s brown eyes behind his glasses had gone almost as round as hers had – and with the same kind of recognition. “Oh no. No, it can’t be. How in the world…what kind of monsters are you? _Both_ of them?!”

Adam jumped. “John…”

His friend turned to him, scowling. “I walked past that royal family portrait every morning on my way to the ledger room for my entire life, Adam, I’d know Queen Astrid anywhere – she had dark hair in the portrait, but it’s her. And there’s a portrait of her with King Hector in the Grand Hall! Elsa is your sister, Adam. Elsa and Anna’s parents…are also _your_ parents.”

“Well, yes,” King Hector admitted. He raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I know who you are! The old bookkeeper’s boy. He kept you hidden away in his den all the time, I always wondered if you were defective somehow.”

“I was a little boy and my mother was dead. Where else was he going to keep me?” John asked, rolling his eyes. “And don’t change the subject, please.”

The king frowned. “Somebody’s gotten uppity.”

“He’s got more right to it than you do,” Adam countered. Shock was giving way to anger. “You’ve been alive, all this time? And you let everyone think you were dead!”

“You were trapped in that enchantment, dear,” the queen pointed out. “Not like we could have come back to you after that.”

“No, especially not since you had to have set it up with the bad fairy in the first place,” John said wryly. “And that still doesn’t explain why you abandoned Arendelle. Word came back that the ship you’d been on had gone down in a storm and there were no survivors.”

“Oh so that’s how she did it,” Queen Astrid observed. “We had wondered. All she’d told us was that we were to refuse to board and order the ship to set sail without us – tell them we were going to ride overland, see a bit of the country and meet them at the next port.”

“Yes, she gave us very specific instructions, and we followed them to the letter,” King Hector agreed. “She said she was arranging things so everyone would think we were dead. I suppose she must have sunk the ship to that end so the seamen couldn’t tell anyone we hadn’t been on board.” He took a sip of his wine. “Efficient way to go about it.”

“Efficient?” Adam’s voice actually cracked on the word. “It was _efficient_ to kill innocent men for something like this?”

“Well, yes.” Hector raised an eyebrow. “I must say, I’d have expected you to have a little more violence in your nature after spending all those years as a ravaging Beast, son.”

“But why were you working with the fairy in the first place?” Elsa wanted to know. “She was bad!”

The queen sniffed. “The fairy came when Adam…when he was just a boy. She said the thing must happen, she threatened to kill us as well as him.” She lifted insincere blue eyes to her shocked son. “You must believe me, darling, it was the only way to save us all.”

Adam blinked, not knowing what to make of this. “And Elsa?”

“It was a christening curse…”

John’s eyes had narrowed. “No,” he interrupted. “No, it most certainly wasn’t. You’re lying.”

The former king of Arendelle scowled at him. “How dare you…!”

“I know how I dare, but I’m not sure how you dared to do it _twice_ ,” John snapped. “You abandoned two kingdoms, three children…for what? Greed, sloth, vanity…shall I keep listing sins until we’ve hit on the right mixture? How can you live with yourselves, causing so much pain to the innocents who were your responsibility, how can you bear to look in a mirror?” There were very nearly tears in his eyes. “How could you? He was barely eleven, and she was _six years old_!”

The king and queen looked at each other, and then, inexplicably, the king chuckled and went back to get his wine; he handed a glass to his wife as well as he sat back down. “Well, that explains it. Elsa, my dear…well, I suppose you did learn to hold it in, didn’t you, or else he’d be dead by now. I’m a better teacher than I thought. But this is why we don’t consort with the upper servants, daughter,” he scolded. “They start to believe they’re better than they are and put on airs; at least with a stableboy or a footman they can’t get above themselves too very much without being slapped down, and the lower servants are also easier to replace. I suppose it’s too late to do anything about it now, though, unless…” He picked up a dainty silver bell from the small table between their chairs and rang it. “Lady Marguerite! Is this part of your plan?”

There was a spray of sullen silver sparks, and a fairy appeared. Unlike the one they’d encountered in the kingdom of Asher, this one was thin and dressed in dark, slightly ragged-appearing clothes, and the wand in her bony hand was of twisted gray wood ringed with silver tracery. She looked the tableau over with a huff, eyebrows going up when she saw the way Elsa was clinging to John, then scowled and pointed one long finger at the queen. “Astrid, this is your fault!”

The queen pouted. “How was I supposed to know this would happen! I wast _bored_ , and he was such a cranky, dry old man who never came out of his cave – and it’s not like the girl had other prospects, her father was quite glad to get rid of her. She was an old maid already and never left her home.”

“Because she was fragile, sickly,” John said. He sounded sickened, and Adam put a hand on his shoulder. “So you really did play with them like dolls – and with no more thought to it than that.”

The queen waved a languid hand dismissively. “Oh pooh, they were my subjects, that’s how it works. They were there for my pleasure.”

He recovered himself, unable to let that stand. “No,” he corrected. “That isn’t how it works, Your Majesty. That has never been how it works…unless the ruler in question is a bad one who doesn’t deserve their crown.”

She shrieked. “You can’t speak to me that way, I’m your queen!”

Adam shook his head, gripping John’s shoulder a little tighter. “No, you’re not,” he told her. “John came from your daughter’s service to mine, with her blessing. And since she’s of age, she’s been confirmed, and you took off to do,” he waved a hand at the palace, “whatever this is,  you’ve technically abdicated. You’re nobody’s queen, just like _our_ dear father there is nobody’s king.”

King Hector smiled. “Well, you’ll  never be a king either, son – the country’s laws won’t let you ascend the throne. Of course, the way I understood it you were supposed to be a rampaging monster until you died so that was never going to be a consideration. Rather inconvenient that you found someone to break the curse.”

“And that she decided she’d rather have the Beast than him after the wedding,” the fairy smirked, making the king snicker and the queen titter behind her hand; this time John was the one grasping Adam’s shoulder, and Elsa put her own hand on his arm. “Which was a side-effect of the enchantment, by the way, although I’d never have guessed it would have played out the way it did – that part was her fault.”

“No, the whole thing was your fault,” John countered, scowling. “You’re the one who did it. Why, though? Why take the name of the kingdom from everyone? Why concoct some convoluted plan to turn an innocent boy into a beast for ten years and trap all of the servants in the castle with him? What did you possibly get out of that?”

“That was incidental to my purpose.” The fairy called Lady Marguerite shrugged. “But unlike their shallow creature of a mother here, I actually had one other than furthering my own amusement – although it did that, too.” She laughed. “You know, Astrid, I believe I will forgive you for complicating this situation; this little man has actually made it more interesting, I think. And I believe he may have given me the key to getting what I’ve been waiting for all these years. Because last time her love for her sister stopped her doing what she was created for…but this time, love will push the other way.”

“What do you mean, ‘what she was created for’?” John had moved to put himself between Elsa and the fairy; so had Adam. “The princess was born to the king and queen of Arendelle…”

“Ah, but I was the one who stuffed the power to bring down Ragnarok into her,” the fairy corrected. She huffed at the blank looks. “Ragnarok? The end of the world in an endless torrent of ice and snow?” John and Adam and Elsa looked at each other, then shook their heads, and she threw her hands up in frustration. “How could you not know that?! It’s a prophecy about the end of the world!” She waved her wand, and both men vanished; John’s cloak, which had been draped over his arm, fluttered to the floor. The fairy pointed at the wide-eyed, white-faced Elsa. “And you’re going to make it happen for me, my sweet little princess. You almost did it before, but this time you won’t stop, will you? This time your brother and your lover are gone, gone, gone, ripped away from you forever, and your pain will bring an end to this boring world of mortals once and for all!”


	22. Out in the Cold

Elsa felt like her entire world had just been ripped away. Her parents were horrible people – and they were also Adam’s parents, and they’d been working with the bad fairy who had just made John and Adam disappear. She picked up John’s cloak, clutching it to her breast. Icy tears formed in her eyes; beneath her feet, an intricate pattern of frost like a round of fine white lace began to take shape. “Why?” she whispered. “Why?”

The despairing question was directed at her parents, and Astrid sighed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t understand, dear. Being a ruler…it isn’t fun, it’s dreary and difficult and often quite unpleasant. And being the last remaining ruler in Arendelle was even worse.”

“After my grandparents died?”

“They died in a plague, and so did my brother and sisters.” She didn’t sound upset about it. “Half the population died, in fact, and what was left of the Royal Council…well, they were all such stiff little men, all rules and don’ts and necessities. They were trying to find me a prince to marry who was just as dull and awful as they were, and then your father came along. They hated him, of course,” she said confidingly. “He was lively and fun and not some dour old man. I refused to marry anyone else, however, so they had to give in.”

“I whisked her away right after the wedding,” her father put in. “My kingdom wasn’t nearly as dour and lifeless as Arendelle, but my subjects were just horribly provincial and the place was unfortunately somewhat famous, which was almost as confining. I went off traveling whenever I could to get away from it.”

Elsa frowned, the frost pattern becoming an even more intricate circular design that spread out across the floor. “But…that’s not a king!”

He snorted. “So my father said as well; I wasn’t at all unhappy when he was gone, believe me.”

She had a horrible thought. “Did you kill him?”

“Of course not.” He, too, sounded bored by the idea rather than upset or angry. “I was away when he died, in fact. But it was after that I just happened to run into our benefactor here, the fairy Marguerite, and she told me to go to Arendelle and the princess there would be just the sort of girl I’d like to marry. She came to us later to explain that there were some prophecies involved and things needed to be done to make them work out, but she promised that she’d give us everything we wanted if we only followed her instructions. Have an heir for Valeureux, have the next child in Arendelle. We slipped up on that one by having your sister Anna in addition to you, but that ended up working out even better after you nearly killed her – that little incident even made the rock trolls fall into line with the plan. We’d every excuse in the world to lock you away after that, and to resume traveling as we pleased instead of just going back and forth between the two kingdoms.”

Elsa raised her hand to her mouth, horrified. “You…you _wanted_ me to kill my sister?”

“Well, not right then,” the king admitted. “It was too soon, you weren’t old enough to start off the prophecy.”

The tears had started again. “Didn’t you…didn’t you love any of us at all?”

The king and queen looked at each other, and the fairy Marguerite snorted. “Asked and answered, my dear. They’re shallow creatures, they don’t love anyone but themselves. Hence our deal: Hector married Astrid, and they provided a female heir for her kingdom who I could imbue with the elemental power of the frozen North. It had to be someone born to power and of the old blood, and someone whose situation could be manipulated early and then let to run its course without further interference from me – the other fairies might have noticed if I’d had to keep my hand in things over there on a regular basis, or the rock trolls might have. And in return…well, they wanted to remain young and be free from responsibility, so here they are: two worthless birds in a magically gilded cage that takes care of all their needs, with nothing to do but amuse themselves.”

“And Adam?”

The frost pattern was nearly ten feet in diameter now, and although Elsa didn’t recognize the pattern’s significance the fairy did and was delighted; her little project was in its final stage, she just had to edge it carefully into completion to set Ragnarok in motion. She shrugged. “I needed to keep anyone from discovering the link between Valeureux and Arendelle – your brother was a convenient distraction. Settling my favorite curse on him sealed the castle and kept anyone in his kingdom from trying to find out where their king and queen might have gone, and to keep anyone in Arendelle from doing the same I removed Valeureux from everyone’s memory.” She made a face. “The curse wasn’t supposed to be broken; it never has been before. Luckily I’d included a warping effect in it to make everyone resistant to the idea of changing anything and resentful if something did change, but in that bookish girl’s case it seems to have made her…well, something must have been wrong there to begin with is all I can say.”

“John says that wasn’t her fault!” Elsa countered. “He says it’s because of what the curse did to her father, and that having to take care of him since she was a little girl made her used to always having her own way. He said our mother was the same sort of spoiled, but in a bad way.”

“ ‘John’ says entirely too much,” the queen sniffed. “Thank goodness he’s gone now, I can’t bear underlings who’ve forgotten their place.”

The frost pattern grew another layer of complexity, spreading out toward the room’s walls, and the fairy laughed. “Your John was right about that, wasn’t he, Princess? He was a smart little peasant while he was alive.” She saw the dismay rising again in Elsa’s blue eyes and drove the point home. “Yes, he’s already dead, or at least dying slowly and painfully, and so is your brother. Even if you could find them, you couldn’t save them…”

Which was when something hit the chamber doors and they burst open with such violence that one actually came off its hinges. And Elsa screamed.

 

For their parts, after the bad fairy had waved her wand Adam and John had found themselves outside in the middle of a violent snowstorm. Snow was deep on the ground here, and getting deeper as the wind blew the falling snow into sharp drifts and heavy dunes. John pulled off his glasses with a curse; the lenses had already frosted over, so he tucked them carefully inside his shirt and squinted into the sheets of blowing white. “I think…I think we’re back in the snowfield! Which way? The wind…from the North?”

“It was earlier,” Adam confirmed, squinting as well, not seeing anything but snow. He took the smaller man’s arm. “We don’t dare get separated, we’ll never find each other again in all this! We’ll head back toward the castle, try to find a place to shelter from the storm so we can figure out what to do next…”

John agreed with a nod, and they turned into the wind and began struggling through the snow. The storm howled and pushed at them, the wind circling like a live thing, tearing at their clothing and biting the skin underneath with invisible claws and teeth.

John succumbed first. Smaller than Adam and without his thick woolen cloak to provide protection against the cold, the former Royal Bookkeeper of Arendelle finally folded into the snow in a silent heap. Since they’d been arm in arm Adam very nearly went down with him, winding up on one knee. John’s face was blue-white, and he didn’t respond to shaking or shouting or even a very indelicate pinch which Adam had essayed in frantic desperation. Trying to pick him up didn’t work either, as although John was the smaller of the two men he was also more solidly built than Adam and was already stiff from the cold besides.

And that was when Prince Adam felt something he hadn’t felt in several years: Wild, bestial rage that boiled up in his chest and erupted from his throat in a deep, angry roar. And then there was a ripping sort of sensation and quite suddenly he wasn’t cold anymore.

Because he was once again covered with a thick coat of fur just a few shades darker than his hair had been. Adam roared again, triumphantly this time, and scooped John up in furred arms corded with muscle which terminated in fearsomely clawed paws. “We are not mentioning this to the wife,” he murmured to the unconscious man, then lifted his muzzle to scent the wind and pelted off in the direction where he now knew his parents’ castle was at, and also the bad fairy. The bitch had a Beast to deal with now.

 

When Adam burst open the doors of the audience chamber – in truth he knocked one of them off its hinges completely and was rather delighted by having done it – the tableau was still as it had been when he and John had been so rudely removed from it, except that now the floor was covered with an intricate pattern of frost and Elsa was tearful and looked even more devastated than she had that night in the haunted forest.

Or at least she did look that way until she saw him standing there holding John, who was very still and rather more blue than not. Her eyes got very wide, her face went very white…and then she screamed.

In rage.

Adam knew without having to be told that what he was now seeing was not the frightened, angry woman-child who had run away from her coronation in Arendelle to build an ice palace and play with snowmen. This was the real Ice Queen, gowned in flurries and crowned with ice crystals, a force of nature in her own right. She turned an icy blue glare on the fairy, and the frost pattern glowed with unearthly blue light in response. In the time it took to blink, king, queen and fairy were all encased in a block of solid ice, thick as a stone dam and clear as fine glass, shock and horror frozen upon their faces. And then Elsa turned back to Adam.

There were frozen tears on her white cheeks, and he found his voice. “He’s…he’s not dead! Not yet, anyway.”

“He isn’t?” She glided forward, extending a white, shaking hand to touch John’s cheek. The tears thawed, her skin pinked again, and the pattern on the floor stopped glowing and began to melt. “He isn’t! But…”

“Come on, we have to get him warmed up again,” Adam insisted, and winced when her eyes widened at the growl. “Sorry. Hopefully I can change back, I just…panicked.” Her eyes widened even more and she started to look over her shoulder; he stopped her. “No! That had to happen – they were evil, Elsa, they’d have killed all three of us. The fairy did mean to kill John and I, she threw us out into the storm, into the snowfield; we could barely tell which direction the castle was in, much less find any shelter. Now, we need to find a bed, and a fire – quickly!”

Small flurries of snow curled and darted across the floor, searching out what their mistress required. Elsa grabbed his massive, fur-covered arm and pulled. “This way! The king’s bedchamber, it has a good fire going…”


	23. Waking Up

John had a very vague memory of half-waking because he was miserably hot and something cool had touched his cheek; the groan he’d let out had caused someone with a high, worried voice to exclaim in alarm, and then a deeper, calmer voice had insisted that the sound had been one of relief not pain and instructed someone to ‘make a cool breeze’. Which they had apparently done, because it had happened and it had felt so good that John had whimpered in relief. And then a warmer, heavier hand had stroked his hair and everything had gone away again.

When he fully awoke, it was with a start that resulted in him sitting straight up in bed. Adam laughed. “Well, you must be feeling better.”

John blinked and squinted. Adam was sitting on a chair by the bed. His clothing looked…odd, not like what John was used to seeing him wear, and it was a deep crimson red. “What are you wearing?”

“A very fine dressing gown, compliments of the former king of Valeureux. Not that he knows it’s with his compliments, since I don’t believe he knows anything at all at this point, but it sounds more genteel than saying I raided my father’s wardrobe because he wasn’t there to stop me.” He handed John his glasses, since he had started feeling around for them, then fussed with the pillows while he put them on. “You took a bit too much cold, so you missed all the fun. I brought you back to the palace, and my dear little sister was so very unhappy with the state you were in – honestly, at first she thought you were dead – that she froze the whole lot of them, bad fairy and all. Looking into the audience chamber is rather like looking at fish caught in a block of ice from the lake. It’s an interesting tableau but somewhat disturbing as well, so I’ve propped the broken door back up and Elsa froze it in place.”

“How did you…”

“Magic.” Adam beamed. “We’re so not telling my wife that I can apparently take on the form of the Beast any time I feel like it – I’ve no desire to enjoy carnal relations in that form, thank you very much. It’s quite well-suited to running through snowstorms, however, although the change is rather hard on my wardrobe. Luckily dear Father and I were very nearly the same size or I’d be running around like King Triton.”

John couldn’t help it, he laughed. And then the room did a sickening loop and twirl around him, or at least it felt like it did, and he was guided back into the pillows by strong, gentle hands. “I didn’t think you could be as recovered as you woke up acting like you were, but I wasn’t sure. Elsa!”

There was a rustle of fine layered silken skirts; apparently Elsa had appropriated their mother’s pretty wardrobe the way Adam had their father’s. “Is he…”

“Woke up, sat up, spoke to me, and then I made him laugh and down he went again.”

“He probably shouldn’t have been sitting up anyway,” Elsa scolded lightly, swooping up beside the bed. Her hand touched John’s forehead, cool and then colder, and after a brief involuntary shudder he breathed a sigh of relief as the dizziness dissipated. The hand withdrew, pulled up the blankets he hadn’t really realized he’d lost. “There, better?”

“Much.” He sighed again and opened his eyes, smiling at her. “I hear you saved us all?”

She blushed. “I got…well, angry. I could probably thaw them back out…”

“I don’t think you should,” John told her, meaning it. “They’d have killed us all, and then probably done it again in some other kingdom when they got bored here. At least your way was quick and painless, sweetheart; if Adam or I had been forced to kill them…well, that wouldn’t have been.”

“Very true,” Adam agreed. “And I already told you they’re probably not actually dead,” he said to Elsa in a reminding tone. “Someone else with the right magic could release them, I’m sure. So what they actually are is imprisoned, which keeps them from doing anyone any more harm.”

“They did plenty of that.”

Elsa scowled when she said it, and John’s heart skipped a beat. He took her hand and clasped it gently in both of his. “Oh Princess…sweetheart, I am so, _so_ sorry. I know it’s a horrible thing to find out, especially the way you and Adam did, after everything you both went through…”

Elsa’s blue eyes widened, and Adam shook his head, patting John’s shoulder. “Not what she was talking about, my friend, but that’s all right,” he said cryptically. “Elsa, do you want to get some of that soup we made? He doesn’t look like he’s going to be awake all that much longer, we should get something into him while we can. Two days is a long time to go without food.”

“Two…!”

“Closing in on three, actually. You took a bit too much cold,” Adam repeated firmly. “I didn’t have any problem once I changed – I have a very thick fur in my Beast form – but you weren’t so lucky, John, and you paid the price for it.” He sat back in his chair, stretching out his legs with a faint smile. “Luckily we’re in no hurry now. Your quest is all completed. I’ll need a bit more time to work out the particulars of mine, but I can do that here as well as anywhere.”


	24. In a Far Country

In a sturdy stone castle set amid rolling green hills, the king of DunBroch was very pleased with himself. Perhaps even a bit too pleased, which was making his wife the queen suspicious. “Yer up to somethin’,” she accused, and had her suspicions vindicated when his response was to smile broadly. Queen Elinor sighed. “Well, what is it? You know you can’t keep a secret to save yer life.”

“I’ve kept this one for a month of days, Elinor, with nobody the wiser.” He considered a moment, then led his wife into the throne room and closed the heavy doors. “I should tell you now,” he agreed, dropped carelessly onto his carved wooden throne; she settled onto hers more warily. “I didnae want it to get out until all was settled, though. You know how Merida takes on when we bring up needin’ to have a thought for her future.”

“Oh Fergus, you _didn_ _’t_ …”

“Hush,” he told her. “I know what I’m about this time, wife. Our daughter was right before, there’s no man available here who’s suitable for her – they’re all either too old or too stupid to match her.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the throne. “I’d heard of a man who’s neither, though. Young, but had to take charge when his father died. Had already saved his people a few times over, brave as a lion but uses his head first.”

His wife raised a dark, skeptical eyebrow. “And then why is such a paragon not already married and producin’ heirs?”

Fergus shook his head. “His lady died, my love. They say he’s not looked at another since. But his mother and the oldsters told him he’s got to take a wife, and he’s wise enough to know they’re right.” He gave her a look. “His lady was quite the spitfire, they told me. Could out-ride him, out-shoot him, and out-argue him most days – and he loved her for it.” The eyebrow stayed up; she knew there was more. “He’s Chief Ironfoot of Berk, the Northern cliff tribe that was almost wiped out some few years back by dragons.”

Her eyes widened. “You want to marry our daughter to a _Viking_? Have you lost yer mind?!”

“No, I found it when I got you back,” he countered. “When I realized, as you did, that a girl who can ride and shoot as well as any man shouldn’t be trammeled in a corset like a clipped bird just because she’s of age to be married. Have you seen any man here who wouldn’t?” He tossed himself back in the throne, the wood creaking. “Not to mention, most of the ones we’ve got are still not sure she’s not some kind of a witch, and I’ve had two tell me they thought they could beat the stubborn out of her.” He was satisfied she understood when he saw her pale at those words. “Ironfoot comes from a people who’ll value her, Elinor. We’ve three boys to pick from to sit this throne after me, and our people will accept any of them – the other two will marry into some other laird’s family and be accepted there.” This time he raised his eyebrow. “Can you see that bein’ the outcome in any family here for our Merida?”

She frowned down at her hands, which were clenched in her lap. “No,” she admitted. “But I’d not be wantin’ her to think we’re sendin’ her away, either. Or givin’ her to some cold stranger from a foreign land who didnae want a wife in the first place.”

Merida decided she’d heard enough, and quietly slipped away from her hiding place. She made her way out to the stables and saddled her horse; riding often helped her calm herself, and clear her thoughts. And her thoughts right now were heavy and confused.

She knew she would eventually need to marry, there was simply no help for it. She also knew there was no man for her here at home, because they’d tried to find her one and the attempt had failed miserably – and only partly because she was stubborn and wouldn’t pretend to be aught but what she was. The idea that some of those same men, men who hadn’t been able to hold a candle to her with a bow, were of the opinion that she needed ‘the stubborn beaten out of her’ filled her with anger. Who did they think they were?! She was their king’s only daughter, his eldest born! That they dared think such a thing, much less tell her father to his face, was unthinkable.

And yet, her father hadnae told her. He’d sucked on the problem all by himself and decided the answer was to marry her to some wild Viking chieftain who’d already lost one wife and didnae want another. Her mother had known nothing of it, didnae approve of it…and had still ended by agreeing with her husband that it was their only alternative to ‘giving’ Merida to some man who wanted to beat her into submission.

She’d ridden quite far up and out into the hills, farther than she’d originally meant to, when she spotted a horse beside the old Ballanshire road and, near the horse, a woman sitting on the ground. The horse was cropping at the grass, but he lifted his head when Merida rode down the hill and exchanged a brief neigh with her own mount. The woman seemed entirely surprised to see her, but she stood up and dropped a slight curtsey. She looked to be only a bit older than Merida, dressed in plain but well-made traveling clothes, and her dark hair was pulled back in a simple knot at the nape of her neck. “I’m sorry,” she said in a pleasant voice, although her accent was a foreign thing. “I’m not trespassing, am I?”

Merida shook her head, jumping off the back of her horse. “No, yer not trespassin’ here – and I’d nae begrudge yer horse a few mouthfuls even if ye were.” She looked around; no one else was in sight. “Yer out here all by yer lonesome?”

The woman nodded. “I’m…trying to find my way back home, but I’m not sure where exactly I am so I’ve just been following the road. I came from…well, from Ballanshire, from the castle.”

Merida shuddered in spite of herself. There wasn’t a bairn alive who didnae know the story of Ballanshire. “You don’t look like a ghost.”

“I’m not. Everyone else there was, I think – all I could see of them was their hands.” She shivered, apparently at the memory, and shook her head. “They’re all free now, though. The curse is broken.”

A red eyebrow went up. “Nobody knows how to break the curse of Ballanshire – it was a fairy curse, the Curse of the Beast! An’ they say the old lord died still bearin’ it and his shade haunts the ruins.”

The woman shrugged. “It did still roam there, haunting the old library where he…caught his last victim. I set it afire, though, burned it to the ground. He’s gone now, for good.”

“If he is, it’s good riddance.” This was news her father should have sooner and not later, Merida knew. If the lands of Ballanshire truly had been freed from their curse, fighting was likely to break out once people knew of it and tried to claim the ancient seat of power for their own. But it could be avoided if Fergus claimed it and moved to place a laird of his own there, perhaps sealing their allegiance with a betrothal to one of her brothers as she herself was, apparently, already spoken for. She grimaced, shaking her head. “I’ll have to tell me Da about this, we’ll have trouble if this news comes to any ear before his. But he’ll want to know who told me, and how ye knew it: Who are ye and what were you doin’ at the castle?”

To her surprise, the woman looked at the ground almost as though she were ashamed. “I’m…I’m Belle,” she said. “Lady Belle, of Valeureux. A fairy cursed me and sent me to the Castle of Ballanshire.”

Merida considered that. Her father had always said fairies were tricksy creatures, but she hadn’t known they could send a person right out of their own country. “Do yer people know where ye are?”

“No.” Belle covered a sniff with one hand. “I’m sure they’re glad about that, even though the fairy said my husband was…was missing me. I supposed he might have been, we were friends once. He’s off on a quest, she said she’d met him in another kingdom and he’d helped her with something.” A rueful, rather wet smile. “She liked him.”

“I suppose that was a lucky thing for him,” Merida observed with a shrug. “Why didnae ye go on the quest with him?”

The eyes went down again. “I was the reason he left – I gave him no choice, he told everyone I’d been cursed and he was going to find the person who’d done it.” She shook her head. “He’s actually trying to find out what happened to his parents, I’m sure. They disappeared when he was a boy.”

“So are ye goin’ home, or are ye goin’ after him?”

That quite obviously startled Belle. “Going after him?”

Merida rolled her eyes. “Well it’s _obvious_ ye love him, and ye know he’s missin’ you. Why not go find him and apologize and then ye can both go home together?”

The other woman blinked. “I…I honestly hadn’t thought of that. But I don’t know where he was going…and I don’t know where I am, either. I was hoping I’d find someone who could at least tell me how to get back to Valeureux.”

The name was odd and completely unfamiliar, and Merida shrugged. “Never heard of it. It’s nae on any map I’ve ever seen, and I know them all the way down to the gray cliffs of the sea. What kind of land is it?”

“The castle is up in the mountains, surrounded by sheer rock cliffs, and then a large valley opens out below them in the middle of the foothills,” Belle told her. “It’s not as cold there as it seems to be here, so it must be farther south. And it’s nowhere near the sea.”

Merida considered again. “In that case, yer probably needin’ to go east – south from here isnae gonna get you anywhere but a clifftop, but east will get you down out of these hills anyway.” She was about to suggest that Belle could come back to the castle with her and speak to her father, perhaps see if he knew more about what the best route might be for her to take, when a noise as of something large moving in their direction stopped the words before they could leave her mouth. She waved the other woman to silence, thinking quickly. If it was a bear, they’d be in trouble – she had a knife and her bow, but there were only two arrows in her quiver and the knife was not a long one. Not that the noise _should_ be a bear, as it was the wrong place and the wrong season for them, but a stag wouldn’t make that much noise and neither would a wild sheep. “If that noise we’re hearin’ turns out to be a dangerous sort of beast,” she murmured just loudly enough for the other woman to hear her, “you get on yer horse and ride up the way I just came down, d’you hear? Just ride, I’ll catch up and take you to my father.”

Belle’s hazel eyes widened. “I don’t…oh wait, now I hear it. You think it’s a wild animal?”

“I know it’s nae a horse, that’s for sure.” Merida pointed. “We’ll see it in a minute, it’s comin’ right at us.”

The sounds got steadily louder until the source appeared over the crest of the hill. Half of the disturbance turned out to be a youngish man with wind-tossed brown hair and dark eyes, older than Merida by a few years at most. He had one hand on the head of the other half as they waded through the tall grass, the other half being a large indigo-colored dragon which seemed to be complaining in a low rumble under its breath. It also had on a leather harness and saddle, and the man – its rider, presumably – was wearing a distinctively styled leather vest lined with fur and carrying an even more distinctively designed horned helmet under his arm. Belle had sucked in a startled breath at the sight of the dragon, and Merida pulled out her belt knife, wishing she’d grabbed her bow instead. “Stop right there!”

The young man stopped, and so did the dragon – which looked every bit as surprised as he did, which was rather startling to Merida. “I’m sorry, are we trespassing?” He essayed a short bow. “My name is Hiccup, I was flying over and Toothless got tired so we stopped to walk instead…” That got the knife brandished at him a little more wildly, and he put up his hands. “Hey, we don’t want any trouble, we’re just passing through.”

“A likely story,” Merida countered. “Ye’ll not snatch us away without a fight!”

Hiccup looked somewhat startled by this accusation. “Why would I do that?”

She used her knife to point at the helmet. “Yer a Viking!”

He rolled his eyes. “And you’re a Scot; should I ask if you’ve stolen any cattle lately? No, I shouldn’t – because it’s a stereotype.”

Merida wrinkled her nose. “A sterea-what?”

“Stereotype,” Belle supplied. “It means judging someone based on stories that are told about their people, not on the actions of the people as individuals.”

Merida raised a red eyebrow at the young man. “People say we steal cattle?”

Hiccup nodded. “And sheep. And that you paint yourselves blue when you fight.”

Her nose wrinkled again. “There’s some that wear paint when they’re warrin’, but not all of us do it.”

“I didn’t think so.” He leaned against the dragon, who huffed at him. “You stop. I can’t let you hunt here, then we’d be the ones stealing cattle.”

Merida was interested in spite of herself. “He needs to eat?”

The young man shrugged. “He _wants_ to eat – whether he needs to or not is a matter of opinion and we’re not agreeing with each other right now.”

That got him another, more offended huff, and she had to smile. “It wouldnae be a good idea to hunt our cattle, no…but I can bring him down a buck, would that do?”

The dragon immediately became very interested in her, and looked up at his rider sideways rather like a begging dog. Hiccup rolled his eyes again. “You spoiled thing. If you wouldn’t mind,” he told Merida. “He could hunt a deer himself, or I could, but I didn’t want us to accidentally start an incident. Or rather, I sort of would like to do that,” he ran a hand through his somewhat shaggy dark hair, looking a little sheepish, “but I really don’t want to start a war. I’ve got enough people getting on me about what I’m supposed to be doing _now_.”

“Aye, I do as well.” Merida considered the dragon – which was considering her back – then cautiously moved a little closer. “Can ye wait a little longer? I’ll get you a nice fat buck, but we’d not any of us want ta get inta trouble o’er it.”

The dragon blinked at her, then leaned forward to delicately sniff. When she raised one hand, he butted under it, demanding scratches. “Why, he’s like me horse!”

“He’s spoiled,” Hiccup repeated, joining in the scratching himself. “I spend a lot of time with Toothless, so he’s used to getting lots of attention. Your horse?”

“The same. Me da says I’ve spoiled him to the point he’ll never take another rider.” The dragon snorted her skirts and she squealed and jumped. “Why you fresh thing!”

That made the young man laugh. “He used to do that to…” His voice trailed off, all of the animation suddenly draining out of him; the dragon immediately gave him a nudge, and he patted its neck. “Well, to someone.” He bowed to Merida, then to Belle. “I really should be going. I’m supposed to meet with someone about…something which I really don’t want to do.”

Merida cocked her head. “Why do it, then?”

He gave her a soft, sad smile. “Because it’s for the good of my people. Sometimes what we want has to…well, sometimes we have to do what we have to do, that’s all.”

“Aye, that we do.” She thought for a moment, then held her hand back out to the dragon, who bumped it with his nose. “Do ye want me to come with you?”

Hiccup looked startled all over again. “I…I’m not sure you can. It might look a little odd, I mean, since I’m here because they want me to marry the king’s daughter.”

Merida’s blue eyes went wide. “Wait, yer _Ironfoot_? You said yer name was Hiccup!”

He blushed. “It is. I got my other name when I took my father’s place as chieftain. And because of this.” He held up his right foot up out of the tall grass…and it was not a foot at all, as it turned out, but rather a thick twist of metal curved at the bottom so it would fit his stirrups. “They wanted me to wear a boot over it, I told them no. I’ll go through with this because it’s the right thing to do for my people…but I won’t lie about who I am.”

It was probably the best thing he could have said, under the circumstances and considering who he was talking to, even though he didn’t know it. Merida’s eyes got even wider, and then she blinked and took a step back…and dropped a very graceful curtsey, plaid skirts billowing against the grass. “I’d not either – that’s why me father’s had such a time tryin’ to marry me off,” she admitted. “I’m Merida, King Fergus’ daughter. I was out ridin’ to try to clear my head, tryin’ to decide what to do about bein’ married off to some stranger I knew nothin’ about…who they said wasnae wantin’ to be married off any more than I was.”

Hiccup’s mouth moved a few times like he was trying to say something…and then he bowed again, lower this time. “My lady, I am so sorry.”

She shook her head, red curls flying. “So am I.” She moved closer again. “What was her name?”

His eyes filled with tears; he dashed them away with the back of his hand. “Astrid.”

“Then that will be the name we give our first bairn,” she told him, and he gasped. She held out her hand to him. “For the good of our people, we can be who we are…together, as friends?”

He caught his breath, looking into her eyes…and then he smiled back and took the offered hand, bowing over it. “We can,” he agreed. “I’d…I think I’d like that, in fact. Shall we go talk to your father?”

“Aye, we should. He’s probably noticed I’m missin’ by now – I didnae intend to ride out as far as I did.” She gave Toothless one last pat, then went back to her horse. “Lady Belle, do you want to come with us? Me father might have heard of yer homeland.”

Belle smiled and shook her head. “I have a direction to go in now, thanks to you, and I’ve stopped long enough.” She put a hand to her breast, feeling the sadness and worry that wasn’t her own. “I need to get home to…to my husband, if he’ll have me.”

Merida reacted to the downcast expression by enveloping Belle in a quick, impulsive hug. “He’ll welcome you back or I’ll come give him what for,” she insisted, giving the other woman a little shake before letting go and moving away toward her horse. “You said the two of ye were friends once, you can be again.”

“I hope so.” Belle got back on her own horse but didn’t resume riding all at once; she was watching the two of them head off up the hill together, walking side by side between the horse and the dragon. And she smiled. They’d start as friends…but she had no doubt they’d learn to love each other soon enough.

The way she and Adam had, once upon a time.


	25. When the Wind Blows

Five days after they had arrived at the palace of the long- and doubly-lost king and queen, John was downstairs looking out into the courtyard, watching the wind whip the snow into fantastic aerial shapes, when he heard a sharp crack. He looked around, frowning, hanging on to the windowsill for balance as he still wasn’t entirely steady on his feet. It had almost sounded like glass breaking, and it had been loud enough to be heard over the howling gusts of wind which were currently buffeting the palace. Another crack sounded, and then another. They echoed in the open space that was the palace’s airy atrium-like entryway, making it hard to tell which direction the sounds had come from, but finally something small clattering onto the floor led his eyes upward to the vast open space of the hollow tower above.

Another gust of wind, another crack and more clattering, but this time he saw the source of the latter two occurrences: The high windows of the tower were giving way under the onslaught of the storm outside. Magic, he realized with horror, or rather the lack of it. The palace…the bad fairy must have been maintaining it with magic, perhaps she had even built it from magic, like the sea witch Ursula’s sand palace had been. But the fairy was gone now… “ADAM! ELSA!”

The fear in his voice had been more than audible, and almost immediately running footsteps were heard. Adam came skidding into the entryway in a panic. “John?!”

A particularly forceful gust roared against the outer walls, and with a crackle like breaking ice one of the windows came raining down in shards. John launched himself away from the window and threw himself against his friend, shoving him back into the corridor he’d just come out of. John almost immediately lost his balance, of course, ending up in a heap on the floor, and Adam went to one knee trying to catch him. The prince’s face had gone white. “My god, what…!”

“It’s the wind, the storm – magic must have been holding the palace together!” Another window came down, large shards shattering into a hail of smaller ones and John pulled Adam the rest of the way down to shield him. This was followed by a higher-pitched shriek, and John yelled back. “ELSA! THE TOWER!”

The storm roared outside, marble and stone groaned…and then something howled in a higher key in the entryway. There was a whooshing sort of noise, and a fiercer crackle…and then silence, or at least it seemed like it as a good deal of the storm’s noise seemed to have been cut off. A fine layer of ice lapped into the corridor, stopping just at John’s feet, and then quick, light footsteps pattered across it and Elsa rushed in and dropped to her knees beside them. “John, Adam!”

“We’re fine,” John told her. He sat up as best he could with Adam’s help, feeling more than a little drained; apparently the sudden burst of exercise had been a bit much for him. “That was…very close.”

“Much too much so, yes,” Adam agreed. “The tower, Elsa?”

“I’ll fill it in once we’re on the other side, and leave just a passage for getting across,” she said. “We should go now, what I did may not last very long.” She stood back up, and then she and Adam pulled John to his feet as well and helped him maintain his balance crossing the sheet of ice blanketing the glass-strewn floor. The formerly open entryway had central pillars now, and a tower of thick ice rising up from them to coat the inner surface of the visibly disintegrating tower of marble and glass which had been the room’s main feature. It was beautiful, but the ice pillars were shivering under the onslaught the tower was still receiving so they hurried across and Adam hauled John back up the stairs to the king’s bedchamber while Elsa saw to making sure the palace wouldn’t fall apart around them any time soon.

By the time Elsa reappeared, Adam was in the outer part of the bedchamber scowling out the window at the storm, the storm of emotions churning inside of him almost as tumultuous. “Should we move downstairs?”

“No, this tower is fine for now – we’re not on the side the wind is hitting hardest.” She came up beside him and looked out herself, then gave him a hug which he returned with a sigh. “I can keep the palace up for a while,” she said. “A little while, anyway. After a week, though, or maybe less, I think most of the palace would be ice and you and John wouldn’t be able to live in it. Is he…”

“Just some scratches from the glass hitting him, nothing more serious than that. And I made sure I got all of the glass off of both of us before we came in here. He was completely worn out, though, he fell asleep in the middle of telling me he was fine and to stop fussing.” He smirked. “If he thinks this is fussing, just wait ‘til we get home.”

That made Elsa smile. “Mrs Potts is going to yell, probably at you and John both.” She looked up at him. “What should we do now?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed again. “John said he thought magic had been holding the palace together, but I’m guessing that’s not all it was doing – it was ‘taking care of all their needs’, after all. There’s only so much food left, for us and the horses, and the storms are apparently going to rip this place apart sooner and not later. So we can’t stay here. But if we try to ride out, we’ll either get caught by the storm out in the middle of the snowfield and die…or we’ll ride out hard and fast during a lull, fast enough to cross the snowfield before the storm comes back, and kill John doing it.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually,” Elsa told him. “While I was reinforcing the towers and the walls on the other side, and the ice block the fairy is in so a stone falling on it won’t crack it and let her out.”

Adam looked immediately alarmed. “You think…”

She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about fairies, but I know she had a lot of magic and you and John both said she probably wasn’t really dead.”

“True, we have no way of knowing. And I really don’t care to find out any time soon,” Adam agreed. “So you were thinking…?”

“We ride out during a lull in the storm. I’ll make us a hut out of hard ice to shelter in when it comes back, and then we’ll continue on during the next lull.” She held up her hand and a little mound of snow appeared which then shaped itself into a tiny dome of ice with a small hole high up on one side. “If it’s round, the wind won’t push on it as much. And we’ll have all of the horses in there with us, so it’s not going to be cold the way an entire palace of ice would be.”

“So we can start out at an easier pace, and stop when we have to.” Adam was nodding. “That is an excellent plan, I think. So really our biggest problem is going to be getting John home safely so Mrs. Potts can throw a huge fit about me not protecting him like she told me to.” Elsa blinked at him, and he smiled and shook his head. “Before we left, she told me to be sure to protect John because he couldn’t protect himself even as well as you and I both could. And I told her I would, because the kingdom would fall apart without him.”

She hugged him again. “I won’t let her yell at you too much. And we’ll stop often, so he should be better by the time we get home. I thought maybe we should stop at the mermaids’ beach again for a little while, in fact, to thank them for helping us find our parents.”

He hugged her back. “You’re getting really good at this plan-making thing, little sister. And we can laze around on the beach where it’s warm, that should be good for John and us and the horses as well.”

 

They left just three days later, riding out on two horses the same way they’d ridden in, but this time leading three as there was no way they’d have left the king and queen’s two fine mounts behind. Or anything else of the king’s and queen’s, in fact. They’d packed up all of the clothes and jewels they could carry –  the former being more of a necessity than the latter, since the three of them hadn’t a single stitch left of the clothes they’d been wearing when they’d first arrived. Their parents’ ridiculously extensive royal wardrobes supplied this need almost perfectly for Elsa and Adam, but proved a bit awkward for John; the king’s clothing was too large for him, especially now, and according to him ridiculously fine for a bookkeeper to be wearing. He had declared the small hoard of jewels and coin they’d found to be more than acceptable as reparations and inheritance, though, and had even counted it all out and marked it all down in a makeshift ledger, allotting one third each to Elsa and Adam, with the last third set aside for their sister Anna. He hadn’t set aside any for himself, which had somewhat illogically displeased both of them, so they’d gone hunting through the disintegrating palace for more and had squirreled what they’d found away in a sack to be John’s share – and Adam had written it into the ledger with the rest while John was napping.

Which he still was doing frequently enough that if they hadn’t absolutely had to go they wouldn’t have budged for another week at least. They had no choice, though, so they set off during a break in the onslaught of winter storms and started making their way across the vast white expanse of the snowfield. Elsa had filled the rest of the palace with ice once they were out of it, making the marble and stone crumble off. Once she was finished, a palace of solid ice was left standing amidst a heap of rubble which was quickly disappearing under a layer of snow as they rode away from it.

The snowfield might have looked to be an impassible ocean of snow, but the hard winds had kept that snow at a passable height, at least in spots. Still, though, the snow was deep and therefore made for slow going, and they had barely made it halfway across before sharp, icy gusts of wind and rapidly darkening clouds began to herald the approach of the next storm. So they dismounted and gathered the horses into a rough circle Elsa carved out in the snow all the way to the hard-frozen ground beneath. At which point she began to build up the walls of her dome one side at a time, with the first side toward the oncoming storm and the second being built after, at which point they were joined together with a fountain of ice that left the outer surface smooth as polished marble. John quickly lit a lamp while Adam calmed the nervous horses, and then they all sat down on the fine thick rugs they’d brought for the purpose and waited to see what the storm would make of their shelter. The ‘window’ of clear ice Elsa had created on the southern side of the dome showed darkness falling quickly under the clouds, and the howl of the wind grew louder and louder…but that wind blew over the little ice dome with a sound like a hissing kettle, and even saw to thickening the outer walls by washing layer after layer of snow over them which then froze one atop the other.

The storm was still blowing when they awoke the next morning, but by that afternoon was seeming to blow itself out and they quickly prepared to be on their way again. Elsa dissolved the southern side of their shelter and blew a path in the now much deeper snow, and they rode out to see how much ground they could cover before night began to fall. Moonrise saw another dome of ice growing out of the snow, this one buried even deeper, and the moment the sun rose they were on their way again, fleeing the boiling black clouds which were already haunting the northern horizon. This time they rode harder, making for the bend in the eastern cliffs which would mark the end of the snowfield. The storm was already whipping them with driven snow by the time they reached it, and howling in impotent fury that it could not reach them by the time their shelter was constructed under an overhang of rock – they were protected from the direct assault of the hard winds, but all of them feared that some rock above them might be dislodged by it and come crashing down onto their shelter during the night. Which did indeed happen, stones from above crashing into the overhang and bouncing off with such frequency that nobody got any sleep at all. They left that place as soon as there was light and rode until they simply couldn’t ride any more, finally making their camp in a winter-stripped thicket far from the rocks. This camp they stayed in for all the next day and night, having abundant fuel for a fire and needing to rest the horses before striking out again toward the warm, sunny beach where the sea witch had set up her castle several weeks before.


	26. Back to the Sea

It had taken them just over four days to travel from King Triton’s domain to the fairy’s marble palace by the sea, but it took them nearer to seven to reach that place again and they quickly made camp in the same spot as before. ‘They’ being Adam and Elsa, as it was doubtful John had even realized they’d stopped riding by that point; the rigors of the journey had been far too much for him in his still-weakened state, and he had been so deeply sunk in exhaustion by the time Adam helped him down from the horse – which, honestly, he’d only still been on because Elsa had been holding him there – that he couldn’t be roused at all until nearly noon the next day. At which point he’d been encouraged to eat and drink and had immediately thereafter fallen asleep again.

Elsa had already let the mermaids know they were back, politely requesting permission to camp on the beach for a time by way of a note encased in ice dropped down into the water. Her friends had appeared shortly thereafter, and Adam had been witness to quite a lot of squealing and hugging from his re-claimed driftwood seat on the rise. He sighed, knowing what part of the delighted squealing was about and only wishing he wasn’t now fearing he’d made a promise to his sister which he wouldn’t be able to keep. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen once they made it back to Valeureux. Which he could now claim kingship of, thanks to finding his father’s signet and crown jumbled in with the man’s hoard of ornaments in the fairy’s palace. Proof that the former king of Valeureux, pre-curse, had been found and was no longer living, although still contestable if someone decided to say Adam had killed him. Possible accusations of patricide aside, though, he was unsure about exactly what he, as king, was and was not allowed to do, and it was worrying him.

Elsa came dancing up the beach some time later and, to his surprise, shooed him out of his comfortable seat. “King Triton wants to talk to you, Adam. I’ll sit here with John.”

Her hair was once again braided with pearls, but this time as a coronet which contained the waterfall of white gold so that it only fell down her back. He found a smile and kissed her forehead, then walked down the beach to the rocks where they’d met the king before. Triton got there about the same time he did, and Adam bowed. “Your Majesty, Princess Elsa said you wished to speak with me?”

“My daughters told me your quest had come to an end.” Triton gave him a long look, then moved to the top of the rock and waved him closer. “Come, sit, we’ll talk. I can already see the weight of it on you.” Adam gave him a confused look. “The crown, my boy, the crown. Let me guess, suddenly you’re worrying about things you hadn’t given a thought to before?”

Adam sat down on the rock, dangling his feet in the water; Triton’s tail was in the water, so he felt it wouldn’t be rude to do so. “I’m suddenly worrying about things I didn’t even realize were things before,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I feel like I did back when the curse was first ended, only about ten times stupider. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Triton patted his shoulder. “We all feel that way sometimes, but especially at first. It helps if you have people who you can trust, people who can advise you when you aren’t sure about something – people who can call you on it if you start to do something stupid.” He waved a large hand at the ridge. “You’ve got one of those already.”

“I would have, if the fairy who started all this hadn’t nearly killed him, yes.” Adam snorted. “Right now I’m not entirely sure he even knows where he is. He’d been coming back from it, slowly but he was, and then we realized the palace my parents had been living in was being held together with the bad fairy’s magic, it nearly collapsed on top of us. John actually saved my life when the windows started to fall and shatter, he shoved me out of the way.”

“Have you decided what to give him for that?”

Adam was startled, and it showed. “What?”

Triton smiled. “One of the more pleasant – but sometimes more abused – duties of a king: If one of your subjects does something special for you, you get to reward them however you like. Raising their rank, handing out a medal, giving them a more important job, letting them marry your sister…” He laughed when Adam’s eyes went wide. “Thought so. Worried someone will say you shouldn’t have done it?”

“I know someone will probably have something to say about it, yes.” Adam dropped his head into his hands. “She loves him. He loves her. She’s my sister and he’s my best friend and he’d probably make a better king than I will, but…”

“But nothing,” Triton interrupted, startling him again. “A king’s word is his bond, and more than that it’s the law. You told your sister she could have him, so she can. If you’re not liking the precedent you might set by letting her marry a commoner, give him rank according to the service he did for you. What’s your life worth, Adam? Not just to you, but to your people?”

“I’m…I’m the only heir.” Adam straightened up a little. “Without me they don’t have a ruler, and Valeureux has no protection.”

“Exactly right,” Triton approved. “So nobody can say anything about it. And even if they do that carries no more weight than you’re willing to give it, because you’re the king and who you choose to favor is your own business – your people may understand being ruled, but they don’t know the first thing about ruling, remember that.” He swished his tail in the water. “What made you decide he’d be a good king?”

“His feeling for his people, and for mine. I’d seen it before on multiple occasions, of course, but there was this one time…we’d stopped to camp in a forest, and we were attacked by ghosts who thought we were knowingly trespassing. They brought some of our worst fears and memories to life, it was horrible. For John, it was having to watch the people of Arendelle kill Elsa – in reality he smuggled her out of the kingdom before that could happen – while his own father held him back, berating him about his responsibility being to the books.” Adam swallowed. “He finally tore himself free and screamed at the man that his responsibility was to his kingdom…and for a moment, everything just stopped. I _felt_ those words vibrate through me, I’m not sure why. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Triton was nodding. “It could have been a sign, a foreshadowing of things to come. Or it could have been because his words called the same up in you, sort of woke you up to it. Those are the words of a man who has the right feeling in him for the job, though – whether that job be ruler or advisor to one,” he said. “Blood doesn’t matter if a man is a king where it counts.”

“No, that it shouldn’t, should it?” Adam frowned at the placid waves; Cogsworth had said much the same thing to him once. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “Sometimes I just don’t know how to navigate this web of protocol my ancestors wove – that all our ancestors wove, I suppose. It all seems so silly and…and _cruel_ sometimes.”

“Sometimes it is,” Triton agreed. “In which case it’s your job as king to fix it, whether by rule or by example.” He chuckled. “The rule in Atlantea for generations was that sirens were to be driven from the kingdom or even killed because their use of the magic in their beautiful voices could cause us to be hunted. As a boy I thought that was cruel in the extreme, and I spoke to my father about it; he began to doubt the wisdom of that custom, and after some checking with his advisors he realized it had never been a law, only a practice of the people which had been allowed to go on for generations. He couldn’t change the custom, so he made a law that only the king had the power to exile anyone.” He smiled. “And then he instituted widespread music classes by professing a deep interest in the subject, which meant the sirens quickly became valuable for their beautiful voices – they’re only a danger to human men, you see, and then only if they want to be.”

Adam blinked at him. “Didn’t you say your wife was a siren?”

Triton chuckled. “Yes. The first time I saw her, she was exploring a reef. She looked very much like Ariel does now, just much, much wilder and bolder than any of our daughters will probably ever be – thank goodness! Those traits were exciting to me then, whereas now as a father myself I find them utterly terrifying. Still, though, she had a sweet nature and an inquisitive mind, and she was so very beautiful. And then I heard her sing…well, that was when I knew I loved her, that I never wanted to be parted from her. Some of the people were not pleased, they said such horrible things that I began to doubt myself. But one of my advisors told me what I just told you, that those sentiments had nothing to do with them being ruled, only with their personal opinions – and as I was their king, their opinions only had as much weight as I was willing to give them. So I ignored the gossip, married my wild little love, and she filled our palace with beautiful princesses for me.” He sighed then. “She was killed while we were swimming through a kelp forest, a maddened shark attacked her – they get that way sometimes and you normally just stay out of their way until it passes. We didn’t see that one until it was too late. I still miss her every day, it seems, especially when Ariel is flitting around getting into things the way she used to, or singing to the fish.” He slanted a look at the young king, who was looking very much affected by this story. “Your wife, my boy?”

Adam sighed, shaking his head. “All but lost to me, even though she still lives. I met her, if you can call it that, when she came to beg for her father’s life. I was a Beast at the time, thanks to the bad fairy’s curse,” he explained. “I couldn’t leave the castle and grounds, all of the servants were enchanted, and we’d been that way for nearly ten years. I’d never had either the desire or the means to harm her father once he was out of my sight, but I had threatened him and so she’d come. I put her in the dungeon, but the servants let her back out again – they were bored, you see, and wanted the curse to be ended.” He laughed, a raw sound. “I’d lost hope that the curse ever would be broken, I just couldn’t see it. Who would love a Beast? Even the servants were afraid of me and they’d known me all my life, and of course I hated myself all the more for that. But she stayed, and I started to get used to her. Belle was quick and clever, she was interested in everything and she seemed to see wonder all around her. She devoured seemingly every book in the library, she played in the snow in the garden, she swished around the castle like she was dancing to music only she could hear. I was still horrid and cranky most of the time, of course, but she just kept pushing – and the servants kept pushing her at me. And I started to have feelings for her, feelings I didn’t understand.”

“You fell in love with her.”

“I fell in love with her. So when she begged to be allowed to go save her father from the furor someone had stirred up among the villagers, I couldn’t tell her no. It turned out to all be a plot by some drunken idiot who wanted her for himself, and fancied that he’d like to have my head as a trophy – which was of course what he wanted Belle for as well, he really was like no kind of person I’d ever imagined. He and his equally drunken louts of friends attacked the castle, trying to kill all the servants simply because they were enchanted, but Gaston came straight for me. He…the way he spoke about having Belle enraged me, he’d no thought or care for the person she was, he’d no remorse for having her father chained up and imprisoned for being insane – also the fault of the curse – he just wanted to hunt her down and possess her, and her continued insistence that she wanted nothing to do with him had only fired his hunter’s blood. If it had only been for myself, I might have let him kill me,” he admitted heavily. “But I couldn’t let him destroy my servants, I couldn’t let him force Belle to marry him, to be his chattel for the rest of her no doubt not-very-long life…so I fought back as best I could. I wasn’t very good at it, fighting, and I just wanted to stop him; he was trying to kill me, and he almost succeeded. I managed to push him out a window and he fell…well, there’s a cliff on that side, they never found his body that I know of. I was dying, the last petal had fallen off the magical rose which signified the curse’s deadline…and then Belle came and she was crying and she said I couldn’t die because she loved me, and everything exploded. I woke up on the floor feeling cold for the first time in ten years, with her sobbing on my chest, and the castle back to normal all around so far as I could see. It took her a while to get used to me not being a Beast,” he said. “I thought she had, though. She helped me learn all the things I needed to know, she flitted about the castle and then the kingdom doing project after project. But then she started to get restless, she seemed displeased with me and with our marriage, she said it wasn’t exciting any more. And then…”

Triton rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. He could guess what sort of thing must have happened, but the boy needed to tell someone. “And then?”

Adam swallowed hard. “She’d been…indicating that she’d rather have kept the Beast, that she missed him, even before John and Elsa came to live at the castle. They’d been with us nearly a year when Elsa came rushing down one day in a panic saying Belle was acting strange, and the story she had to tell…Belle had tricked her into creating an ice sculpture of the Beast.” He flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “It…wasn’t meant to be ornamental, she’d drawn pictures of the…feature she wanted it to have to suit the use she planned to put it to. Poor Elsa of course had no idea what that was, or what it was for; she thought Belle was cursed. John and I had our doubts about that, of course, but I decided that the only way to salvage the situation and stop the worst of the gossip was to pretend it was true and go off on a quest to ‘find a cure’. I thought perhaps to at least find some trace of my parents, to clear up the uncertainty regarding my being able to take the throne…”

“And you hoped your being gone for a time might bring her to her senses.”

“Yes, I had hope. The bad fairy confirmed that the situation had in fact been caused by the curse, but she said whatever happened after it ended was Belle’s own problem. She seemed to think it was quite funny.”

Triton hmm’d over that for a moment. “What does your advisor think?”

“He thinks it was partly the fault of the curse and partly her being spoiled, but he says he also doesn’t think that’s her fault. The curse ripped all knowledge of our kingdom from everyone, down to the name of the place, and Belle’s father had been the Royal Historian. We know that had to be the reason the man went insane, and Belle had been his caretaker ever since. She was a child of eight when it happened.”

“Yes, that would explain it – she would have been accustomed to having always had things the way she wanted them, and so the subtleties of the curse could very well have magnified that to an unreasonable degree. Even when that sort of magic ends, it can leave behind strong, lingering effects.” Triton cocked a bushy eyebrow. “Do you still love her?” Adam’s eyes filled with tears, and the king sighed and patted his back. “Of course you do, my boy, of course you do. And no one can say you shouldn’t.”

Adam sniffed. “There was this dead seaman…”

Triton shook his head. “He’d have pitched her overboard, I’m sure. But then, she’d have never saved him from a curse, either, so they’d have been even and they’d both have gone on to find other bedpartners. Seamen are loud,” he explained when Adam looked up at him with curious, wet eyes. “I’ve heard them many a time when a ship was becalmed in my waters. Not always bad men, but not always the best men either. They’ve a hard life, and hard is the way they live it.” Then he thought about that for a second. “Wait, a _dead_ seaman? How in the world did you manage to hear the opinion of one of those?”

“More than one,” Adam corrected. He sat up a little straighter, wiping at his eyes. “They were the ghosts who attacked us in the forest because they thought we were trespassing. They learned otherwise, and then they asked us to bring their…well, I’m guessing it was their souls, down to the sea that they might be at rest. He was one of them, but there were at least fifty, if not quite as many as a hundred.”

The sea king got a very intense look on his face. “And did you bring them? Did they go in?”

Adam nodded. “Elsa made an ice ball for them to be carried in, and once we reached the coast she made a path of ice to walk out over the waves on and threw the ball into the sea the way they’d told her to.” He smiled in spite of himself. “They all flew off immediately except one that stayed to say goodbye to her before leaving.” The look on the sea king’s face had become rather alarming, and Adam blinked. “What…shouldn’t we have done that? We didn’t like to leave them as they were in the forest, but there was no way John and I could have buried them all.”

Triton closed his dropped-open mouth with an effort. “No, you didn’t do wrong,” he said. “In fact…my boy, you’re going to be a truly fine king. If you were mine, I’d be exploding with pride over you; your father was an idiot who didn’t deserve to be king of a cracked rock. He’s dead?”

“Well, he’s sealed in a gigantic block of ice along with our mother and the bad fairy. Elsa was…extremely provoked, let’s put it that way. The bad fairy threw John and I out into the middle of a storm. I had just come bursting back into the palace in my Beast form – which none of us had known I could change back into – and I was carrying John, who looked more dead than alive. We showed up while the fairy was trying get Elsa to start something called Ragnarok…”

“ _Ragnarok?!_ ”

“Yes, that’s what she called it – the end of the world by means of ice and snow, she said, and seemed quite put out that none of us had ever heard of it. Our parents had been in the plot with her for their own selfish reasons.” He made a face. “Our mother told Elsa that being a ruler is hard and not much fun, as though that could excuse them for everything they’d done.”

The other king shook his head. “Idiots.” This time the pejorative was more menacing. He squeezed Adam’s shoulder and then let go. “My boy, go back to your sister and your brother…” Adam’s eyebrows went up, and Triton ruffled his hair affectionately. “He’s become your brother as much as she’s your sister, my boy. If you hadn’t loved him that much, you’d both be dead and so would she – love broke your curse, and love called it back as a blessing. Now go back up the beach and relax, and let me deal with the one piece of protocol you actually will need another king’s help to sort out.”

And with that he dove back into the water, a splash of his powerful tail showering Adam with salty droplets. Adam smiled ruefully as he stood up, wiping water off his face – he was sure the splash had been on purpose – and walked back up to the ridge. Elsa almost knocked him over hugging him, which made him laugh. “No, I’m…I really am all right. He wanted to talk about things – he wanted to know what had been happening, so I told him.”

She stepped back to look into his eyes. “About Belle?”

He nodded, wincing just slightly; thinking about her hurt, still. He wasn’t sure it ever wouldn’t. “About Belle and other things. And he said there was ‘one piece of protocol’ I actually could use another king’s help to sort out, and he’s apparently looking into that for me although he didn’t tell me what it was. He said I should come back up here to you and John and relax.” He reclaimed his seat. “He called John my brother.”

Elsa ruffled his hair much the way Triton just had. “He might as well be. Are you still worried you won’t be able to keep your promise?” His mouth dropped open, and she smiled and shook her head, sitting back down in a place where she could run her fingers through John’s hair while he slept. “Adam, Arendelle’s councilors tried to marry me off to a man who’d already tried to kill my sister and I both, and that when I didn’t even understand…what a marriage actually entails. I know how those sort of people think, and you aren’t as good at keeping your feelings hidden as I think you want to be.” She raised an eyebrow. “The girls said you were being silly, because now that you’re king you could raise John’s rank any time you wanted to. They even went and asked their oldest sister about it – she’s heir to the throne, and very serious – and she said the same. In fact, she said if you didn’t raise his rank you’d quite possibly cause a scandal and your people would think you weren’t grateful for the service and loyalty you were given.”

Adam had to laugh. “Tell the girls thank you, and that’s exactly what their father said I should do. So, Lord Kepperson, do you think?”

John snorted softly, although he didn’t open his eyes. “My father was a ‘Sir’.”

“Your father didn’t save his king’s life,” Adam told him, knowing he wasn’t really fully awake. “Sleep, John, I won’t need your help with this until later.”

John muttered something that sounded like ‘you say that now’, but he did fall back into a deeper sleep.


	27. Lobsters and Kings

The following afternoon, Adam was startled out of making plans for future renovations to his castle – by way of building a rather unspectacular sandcastle – by the sight of something large and red walking out of the water and making its way up the beach. It had a long shiny red body terminating in a wide fan-shaped tail, six spindly legs, and two very large claws in the front. It looked dangerous, and when its small black swiveling eyes saw their little camp it started heading right for them.

Elsa had seen it too, and she broke off her underground burrowing ice attack on her brother’s sandcastle to stand up and get a better look at the thing. It stopped in its tracks with an alarmed squeak when it saw her raise her hand, however, and she put her hand back down. “I don’t think it’s a bug, or a crab. Excuse me!” she called out to it politely. “But what are you?”

The red thing huffed and sat up on its tail, waving its claws in an annoyed fashion. “Not a crab!” it called back. “Do I look like a crab to you?”

“You don’t look like anything I’ve ever seen,” Adam answered. “It’s all right, you can come closer. We won’t hurt you unless you try to hurt us.”

“Well of course I’m not here to hurt you!” It dropped back down and made its way closer, although it stopped just out of reach and climbed on top of a small rock. Then it stood back up on its tail and bowed. “I am Sebastian, King Triton sent me to see about tings for him. I be a lobster. You never seen a lobster before?” Brother and sister both shook their heads. “Well, I guess dat means you won’t be wantin’ to eat me, so dat’s not a bad ting.” He looked around the camp they’d set up and rolled his eyes. “Really? Dis is how humans set up a place to sleep? I tought you built houses an’ tings.”

“We do, just not on somebody else’s beach,” John said, sitting up with a yawn. He’d been helping with both the sand castle and the ice attack but had dozed off when Elsa had retreated to rethink her strategy because Adam had put in a moat which he’d claimed was filled with fire. He pushed his glasses up his nose and blinked at the lobster. “You look really dangerous.”

Sebastian preened. “I can be,” he agreed, clacking his claws just a bit. He looked around some more, then waved a claw at the horses. “What be dose?”

“Horses,” Adam told him. “We rode on those to get here – they help us travel. Don’t go over there,” he warned quickly when the lobster looked like he might be considering getting a closer look. “They have hard hooves, they could hurt you.”

“Do dey talk?”

“No, they don’t.”

“Hmph. Well, den I guess I don’t be needin’ to ask them if dey need anyting. Why are dey eatin’ de grass?”

“That’s what horses eat – grass, hay, oats,” John explained. “We have other food for them, but they’re liking the grass right now because it’s fresh.”

“Dey don’t eat meat?”

“Oh no, never. Horses only eat plants.”

Sebastian clicked his claws, which made one of the horses look at him. He pointed a claw at it. “Dat one’s lookin’ at me.”

Adam smiled. “Because you made a noise he wasn’t familiar with. Horses are easily startled.”

“If I was dat big, I wouldn’t be startled by notin’ at all.” Sebastian slid down off his rock and came closer, examining the rugs they were sitting on and the little fire pit ringed with stones and sand. He gave Adam’s sandcastle a once-over, as well as the melting remains of Elsa’s previous attacks on it, and then moved on to have a look at John’s rug and the neat pile of saddles and other things just beyond it. Then he came back and stood up on his tail again, shaking an admonishing claw at Adam. “Dis not be acceptable, Your Highness, not acceptable at all. Dis be a picnic you havin’ here, not a proper place for you to sleep.” The claw indicated John. “And dis one looks sick.”

John shook his head. “I’m fine, I’m just tired.”

Sebastian fixed him with a surprisingly stern gaze, shaking the claw again and this time giving it a little clack for emphasis. “De last time I saw a fish lookin’ as fine an’ tired as you, he was floatin’ belly-up de next mornin’. You stay right dere until I come back, you hear?” And then the lobster gave Adam a short bow, dropped back onto his spindly legs and hurried back down the beach to disappear into the water.

John was staring at the swishy trail the lobster had left in the sand with a perplexed look on his face. “I am really not sure what to make of that. What do you think he’s going to do?”

Adam smiled and went back to his sand castle. “I think that was King Triton’s Cogsworth, so he’ll likely do whatever he thinks is best. Elsa, I saw that. The moat is full of fire, you can’t cross it!”

She smirked at him, and the burrowing ice surfaced inside his shell-lined courtyard and made itself into a tiny, conquering flag. “I went under the moat, not over it. Now move your hand so I can fix that tower, it’s crooked.”

“Can you make a mosaic in the courtyard? I’m out of shells.” She did, and even put a fountain in the center of it. He nodded. “See, that’s pretty.”

“You can’t put a mosaic there, because that’s where horses come in from the road,” John pointed out. “The tiles would break. Maybe gray and white cobblestones? That way there’s no mud, and they’d last longer.”

“True.” Elsa made that change, and Adam went to work adding a third wing onto the side of his castle. “There isn’t anything on this side, might as well make some guest quarters out of it. And maybe add a conservatory…”

“I don’t think a conservatory would get enough light on that side,” John said. “There’s nothing on that side because nothing will grow but trees. Guest quarters might be a good idea, though.”

“You could put the conservatory on top of the guest quarters,” Elsa suggested. She moved Adam’s hand again, erecting a little ice structure atop his addition. “See, that way it would get more sun.”

“That way it also leaks water down into the guest quarters,” John disagreed. “You could have it as a sun room, though, with a few plants in pots.”

Adam made a face. “But then we’ll have to make one on the other side or it won’t look balanced, and there isn’t room.”

“Let me try something.” Elsa did away with the ice structure, then made a narrow sand extension behind the sandcastle and put a longer, narrower ice structure on top of it. “There! Now if it was connected by two doors in the center and another door on each end, everyone could use it but no one could see it from the road or the village.”

“I like it, but it would cost Mrs. Potts her cucumber frames on that side.”

“No, you could move those.” John frowned. “Although that might give them less sun during the day, because the mountain’s shadow would cover them earlier.”

“True. Did you have one of these in Arendelle?”

John shook his head. “We’re too far north for that – it would be uninhabitable for most of the year, and it would be a waste of money the kingdom doesn’t have to try to heat it.”

Adam left off considering his sandcastle and considered that instead. “You know, I don’t understand that. Arendelle has plenty of trade, from what you’ve told me, but you’ve mentioned how many pennies you had to pinch on multiple occasions. It almost sounded like the kingdom was dying.”

“It was, in a manner of speaking.” John shifted around to get more comfortable – but not so comfortable he’d fall asleep again. “We had a lot of trade, it was something of a tug-of-war between the two nearest kingdoms with the Northmen thrown in to make things interesting. But Svarsbaard broke off trade with us when the king and queen disappeared, and the Danes are paranoid idiots who feared Svarsbaard had withdrawn from the competition because they were trying to set one or more of the smaller Danish fiefdoms up for a fall – not to mention even the worthless politicians we had left as councilors had refused multiple offers from the Danes for either princess’s hand due to what they were offering.” Elsa looked curious. “Crass, mercenary old men, sweetheart – they weren’t even trying to pretend they wanted anything but access to the throne, it was such a blatant insult nobody could ignore it. Anyway, though,” he continued to Adam, “we’d still been dying even before all of that. The king and queen had stripped the treasury bare, the queen had even taken the money from the Royal Pension funds and used it to…you know, I don’t even know what she did with it, I just know that nobody was able to convince her not to do it. And then they disappeared, and after that nothing could be done. No one could be given rank, new laws couldn’t be made, the tax couldn’t be raised or lowered. The councilors even stopped paying the castle’s staff after a time as a cost-saving measure, we were working for our keep and nothing more.”

Elsa appeared puzzled by that. “Then where did our quest funding come from, John?”

He blushed. “Well, that was…it was mine. From the time before the remaining councilors decided to stop paying us – although they didn’t stop paying themselves, or rather having me pay them. I hadn’t been able to save as much of it as I’d have liked, because we all still had to maintain appearances. Only the kitchen staff and the maids had any of their clothing supplied to them, as it was by law included in their wage – their uniforms all have to look alike,” he explained. A very slight smile. “But the steward and the butler and I had to get very creative with barter to maintain our own wardrobes to the standard the councilors demanded.”

She was still looking at him, the beginnings of a frown making its appearance. “But if there was money to pay the councilors, why couldn’t we just take a bit of traveling money from the treasury, like Adam told you to do before we came on this quest?”

John bit his lip, looking down at the sand. “Because we weren’t supposed to be going, so it would have been stealing. That’s why we took the one horse that didn’t belong to Arendelle in the first place; the way I saw it, the bastard owed you some sort of recompense for all the trouble he’d caused, and getting you…giving you a good horse to use was the least he could do.”

She put her hand over his. “I agree with you, about the horse – it was the least Hans could do, and Sven is too good a horse for him anyway. He’d be better suited to ride a narwhal.”

John choked, and now Adam was confused. “A what?”

John got control of himself; he was flushed again, and Elsa was hiding giggles behind her hand. “It’s…a small whale. With a very long, sharp horn, like a unicorn. We fish them sometimes, for the meat and the oil, but they’re quite dangerous.” He shook an admonishing finger at Elsa. “I can tell by the look on your face that you know ‘riding a narwhal’ is a…naughty thing to say, Princess. You heard it from those seamen, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “I told them about Hans.”

“Lucky for him they’re dead and can’t come after him,” John said. Adam still looked confused. “Adam, you’ve got him riding the wrong part of the narwhal.” This time Adam went red. “Yes, exactly. Not an expression a princess should use, Elsa.”

She blinked at him. “You don’t think they’re right?”

He snorted, turning his hand over to squeeze hers. “Yes, sweetheart, I think they’re more than right; riding a narwhal would be the least of his worries if I ever got hold of him. But there’s…a secondary meaning to that expression which you don’t understand, and that’s why it isn’t appropriate.”

“You can’t explain it to me?”

She actually batted her eyelashes at him, and he blushed but shook his head. “I could, but I’m not going to. Because that would be _highly_ inappropriate and then I’d have to go drown myself in the sea immediately afterward.”

“So would I,” Adam agreed. “And then you’d have to rule Valeureux, Elsa, and let your sister have Arendelle.”

“I might have to do that anyway. They did already try to kill me once, after all.”

This time John went really alarmingly white, so much so that Adam moved to steady him just in case. John didn’t acknowledge or reject the support, though, just took a deep, shuddering breath and picked up Elsa’s hand in both of his. “Talking in my sleep?” he asked, and she nodded. He shook his head. “Princess, that throne belongs to you. I took you away that night because…because I couldn’t think of anything else to do, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to save you from them if you stayed there. I’m not sure about the other two, but I’m positive the Chief Councilor, Tarben, was in on it,” he explained. “He was awake that night, watching – I saw him. There was no one I could go to for help, and I didn’t feel I’d be able to make you understand what was happening without upsetting you…so I lied.” Another deep breath, and he squeezed her hand and put it back down. “It is within your right to banish me for that, but first…Your Highness, if you truly want to return to Arendelle, please allow me to accompany you. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure your safety and return you to your throne, even if it means my life.”

Elsa’s response to that was to throw herself into his arms, which probably would have bowled him over backwards if Adam hadn’t already been prepared to catch him. The end result was a three-way hug with a very astonished John in the middle, and although his arms automatically went around his princess he gave Adam a confused look. “I don’t understand.”

Adam sighed and tightened his own hold. “You didn’t talk in your sleep, John - you screamed. Over and over again, thinking you hadn’t been able to save her. Not that I didn’t already know, of course, since that was what the fireflies showed you that night in the forest.”

Elsa sniffed. “I went outside after we’d gotten you calmed down and called for Olaf’s snow, and once the winds had brought it to me he told me what had happened. He was so happy you’d been there to save me.”

John raised a shaking hand to stroke her hair. “So was I, Princess, so was I. I’ll…I’ll always be there, until you don’t need me anymore.”

Startled blue eyes lifted to his. “Why wouldn’t I need you?”

He found a smile, although Adam wasn’t sure how, and tried to disentangle himself. “Someday you’ll be married, sweetheart. Then looking out for you will be your husband’s job.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about that,” Adam put in before his shocked sister could say anything. He’d meant to wait to have this discussion until some other things had been finalized, but at this point not saying anything would just be cruel. “Since Elsa will have to be married sooner rather than later, and it will have to be someone we can trust implicitly, I think…” And then out of the corner of his eye he saw Sebastian pop out of the water and start coming back up the beach at a fast clip, and he groaned. “Oh bother, he’s already back and he looks agitated. Something must be wrong.” He stood up, John and Elsa standing up with him although he would really have preferred that John hadn’t. “Sebastian?” he called out. “What’s wrong?”

The lobster was muttering to himself, and he swarmed up on top of the rock he’d used earlier and waved his claws. “De king is comin’!” he announced. “And another king besides! I told dem give me ten minutes to make sure you was all presentable.” He clacked his claws. “Dey’s comin’ to do your coronation ceremony, Your Highness!”

Adam’s eyes went very wide. John was glad of the distraction, though. “Princess, he needs a clean shirt, and a jacket, and I’ll get his sword…”

“You aren’t getting anything,” Adam countered, snapping out of it. “Although you’re going to need a clean shirt and a jacket too.” He waved Sebastian down off the rock and pushed John over to it instead. “Sit down and stay there, that’s an order.”

“Stay,” Sebastian added, reinforcing that order with a warning clack of his claws. “And you don’t need a jacket, Your Highness, dis be de beach. Not to mention, dis one over here don’t need to be gettin’ overheated, he sick enough now.”

“I’m not sick,” John corrected tiredly. He had sat down on the rock, as ordered, and he was still nearly as white as his shirt. “I keep telling you I’m fine.”

“And I’m tellin’ you to quit lyin’,” the lobster scolded. “You look like you is about to fall off dat rock right into de sand.”

John surreptitiously made sure he was going to do no such thing. “Adam, do you need help with your sword belt?”

“No, I can do it.” Adam was already pulling on a gold-embroidered white silk shirt Elsa had dug out for him, and then he wrapped the sword belt around his waist and fussily adjusted it the way Charming had taught him so that the sword wouldn’t bang against his leg when he walked. Elsa had handed John a blue silk shirt, and Adam helped his friend finish with the tiny pearl buttons that fastened it before pulling him to his feet. “Do we need my father’s crown, Sebastian?”

“I has it,” the lobster reassured him. “Princess, is you…” Elsa did something that coated her blue silk dress with frost and then shook it out, leaving the dress fresh and unwrinkled. “Well dat’s handy. All right, den, all of you follow me. We be havin’ royal business to attend to.”


	28. Coronation

They walked the short distance down to the beach, and Sebastian guided them to an area of freshly-swept sand and showed everyone where he wanted them to stand – Adam on one side, John and Elsa on the other. He was just barely finished fussing them into position when there was a disturbance in the water and King Triton swam up and then walked the rest of the way out on two legs just as he’d done during their first visit to the beach. Another tall, powerful man came out with him, quite obviously also a king as he was wearing a crown of silver and carved ivory, and quite obviously also usually a merman as he, too, was completely naked and seemed to think nothing at all of it. He was somewhat taller and hardier-looking than King Triton, with long silver-black hair and a beard to match, and his skin was several shades darker. He was carrying a heavy spear. Adam bowed to the two kings, and Triton nodded. “Prince of Valeureux,” he acknowledged formally. “You and yours did me a great favor, and now I shall return it. First, however, this is King Sel, of the Northern Waters. He knows of Ragnarok. Tell him what you told me, and anything else you may remember about it.”

Adam bowed again. “I had never heard the word before, until the Fairy Marguerite used it – she claimed to be trying to start it, the end of the world in ice and snow, and to that end she had made a bargain with mine and Princess Elsa’s parents. She said she had placed the power to start Ragnarok into my sister at birth. She then…removed John and I from the palace, casting us into the snowfield we had crossed to get there. A storm was raging, and by the time I found my way back she appeared to be trying to upset my sister enough to trigger this Ragnarok by telling her that John and I were dead. There was a pattern in frost spreading across the room from beneath Elsa’s feet, and when she saw us…well, she thought John was dead, because he looked it at that point, and she screamed and the pattern filled up with blue light. The fairy and our parents were immediately encased in a large block of clear ice.”

The other king was frowning. He waved his spear at the sand, and a small, round design appeared there. “Did it look like this, her pattern?” Adam nodded, and another wave erased it. “That was the sigil to open Ragnarok. Did you hear a sound, like the tolling of a distant bell over the water?” Adam shook his head, and King Sel seemed relieved. “Then it was not yet ready to open – the sigil must have its song to be complete.” He turned to Elsa, who was looking frightened now. “Did you hear the song in your heart, child? Did you wish to sing it with ice and snow?”

Her blue eyes filled with tears. “Yes. She showed me how horrible our parents were – it was like they had no feelings at all! She said they only loved themselves. And then she told me she’d killed John and Adam. I was all alone!”

His face darkened, and John put himself between them. “It isn’t her fault that awful fairy made sure she’d lived most of her life in frightened isolation,” he said. “Or that she tried to finish her plan by murdering Adam and I and exposing the former king and queen of two abandoned kingdoms as the shallow, heartless fools they were.”

John’s tone was polite, even respectful…but his body language was quite openly saying ‘if you want her, you’re going through me’, and Adam caught his breath. Sel, however, got a very curious look on his face. “It isn’t her I was angry with, boy. Who is your family? I can tell by your voice that you’re of the northern waters.”

“My father was Sir Jonas Kepperson of Arendelle,” John told him. “He was a bookkeeper, as his father and grandfather had been before him. I never knew my mother’s family. I’m sure they were from somewhere in the kingdom, but they…never saw fit to make themselves known to me.”

“Hmm. Did the fairy know you?”

“No, Your Majesty, she didn’t appear to. Although she did yell at their mother for causing me to be born.”

Sel hmmd again, looking even more thoughtful, but didn’t comment. King Triton, however, looked immensely pleased by something. “Well, Sel?”

The other sea king nodded. “Yes, you are right. I concur.”

“Then let’s get on with things. Prince Adam of Valeureux, kneel,” Triton ordered; Adam immediately took a knee. “You have proved yourself worthy, son of the unworthy dead. By my kingdom I swear to your valor, and assert your fitness to rule the kingdom that is yours by blood and claim.” He clapped his hands, and Sebastian brought the ruby-inlaid golden crown to him, handing it over with a bow and a swish of his fan-shaped tail. Triton took the crown and placed it upon Adam’s bowed head, then stepped back and touched each of his shoulders with the tip of his trident; King Sel did the same with his spear, and then they both touched the crown, which glowed briefly golden. “Rise, King of Valeureux,” Triton intoned. “May you rule wisely and well, and may the weight of your crown never lessen.”

Adam stood up, swallowing hard, and bowed to each of the sea kings again. The magic was still there, he could feel it, and he knew what he needed to do. He drew his sword. “My first act as king shall be to repay a debt, and right a wrong. John Kepperson, kneel.”

John started, but he dropped to one knee. “For the loyalty you have showed me,” Adam said, touching the sword to one shoulder, “and the friendship you have given me,” touching the other, “and for the love I bear for you, as though you were my brother by blood. Rise, Lord Kepperson, Comte de Valeureux.”

John stood back up with some little difficulty, but he did manage it and bowed as well. His eyes behind his glasses were filled with tears. “Your servant, Your Majesty.”

“My brother,” Adam corrected gravely, sheathing his sword again and giving his friend a hug. “I have plenty of servants; someone has to make sure my crown stays on straight.” He put John from him gently, patting his back and surreptitiously making sure he had his balance. “One thing more, as I have seen that it cannot wait any longer. Princess Elsa, my sister.” She blinked at him. “Princess, you are always welcome in my kingdom, and you will always have a place in my home and my heart…but you have a kingdom of your own which fear and greed took from you. And you cannot retake your rightful throne without a king at your side – a man who knows how to rule subjects such as yours, who knows how to run a kingdom, and who is of high enough station to take your hand. You must be married as soon as possible after we have returned to Valeureux, as Arendelle has already been too long without its rightful ruler. You and I have already spoken on this subject, and agreed upon the best solution, but I would make it official. So will you accept my decision in this matter as being what is best for Arendelle rather than based on sentimentality or friendship?”

John kept his face very blank and looked at his shoes, but Elsa nodded. “Yes Your Majesty, my brother, eldest born of our parents, I will accept your decision. My first duty is to Arendelle.”

Adam nodded. “Very well. Then on our return, as soon as suitable arrangements can be made, you will be married as I had already promised you…to the Comte de Valeureux.”

He would swear later that he’d had no idea this announcement would cause John to faint dead away.

 

John woke up with his head in Elsa’s lap; he knew it was Elsa’s lap because he could smell snow and flowers, and he could feel her cool, slender fingers playing with his hair. He blinked at the green silk canopy above them in puzzlement. Hadn’t they been on the beach? And then Adam squeezed his hand – which he had apparently already been holding – to get his attention. “After everything else that’s happened, you faint because I told you you’re marrying my sister? I am sorry, though.”

John blinked at Adam this time. “I…” He glanced up again; Elsa smiled at him. “Where are we?”

“In a very pretty silk tent, which Elsa sacrificed one of our mother’s dresses to some royal magic to make,” Adam explained. “Although I agree with her, this one wasn’t her best color anyway.”

“Luckily…your mother had at least one of every color.” John seemed to be having some trouble catching his breath. “I don’t understand, Adam.”

“What’s there to understand? Elsa made this request of me back at our parents’ palace, and I agreed to it because how couldn’t I? You love her, she loves you – who else was she going to marry?” Adam’s grip on his hand tightened. “King Triton agrees with me, John; you’ve got it in you to be a good king, you’ve already claimed those people as your responsibility. You did it that night with the fireflies, remember? You said your responsibility was to your people, and I felt those words all the way down to the soles of my feet. And that wasn’t the first time it had happened, or the last. Both of these elder kings have confirmed that was a sign.”

Which was when John realized the two sea kings were in the tent with them – and very much more naked for being so close. He sat up. “Your Majesties, my apologies…”

“None necessary, and you stay right where you are,” Sel ordered mildly. “You’re half dead, boy, and we were only standing on ceremony in the first place to make sure the magic would take – it can be finicky sometimes when you’re crowning a new king, especially in a situation like this one.”

“A situation…”

“I’m the first born of our parents, and the eldest son as well, so technically I could have claimed both thrones – Valeureux and Arendelle,” Adam explained. “Hence all the questions being asked first, making sure I didn’t need to.”

“And that you didn’t have any designs in that direction,” Sel added. He cocked his head at John. “You’re one of mine, I’m sure of it now. Your mother never told you of your birthright?”

“My mother died when I was not quite two, Your Majesty. I have no memory of her at all, my father kept no mementos and no one else in the castle ever spoke of her.” John swallowed. “I’ve never known her family, not even the name. Their marriage was arranged by the queen, because she…because she was bored.”

Sel nodded. “People like that often are; amusements wear thin when there’s not work in equal measure. So you’d no idea your mother was eldest?” John gasped, and he smiled grimly. “That would be a ‘no’, then. I thought as much.” He saw that the brother and sister didn’t understand. “He should be head of his line,” he explained. “If the eldest is a girl-child, her first-born son is the head.”

“So they’ve never introduced themselves to John as family…”

“Because then everyone would have known they’d usurped the line.” That got him hugged from both sides, which he didn’t protest because he was feeling distinctly faint again. “So they…pretended I didn’t exist, and since no one in the castle really ever saw me until I was old enough to help my father…”

“Everyone must have forgotten by then,” Adam agreed, although he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it; John had said before that everything in Arendelle was about politics, and King Sel had already mentioned a strong family resemblance. He turned his attention back to Sel, but kept a supportive arm around John just in case. “So is this something we should look to rectify, or is it best left alone?”

Sel snorted. “It’s good you know to ask that question. And the answer is two-fold: You boys are to leave it alone – and you too, little girl – because it was my law they broke and I’ll deal with them in my own way. As to rectifying, however,” he grimaced. “Well, that we’ll need to talk about. I would mark you as the head of the line,” he told John. “It should be done, and it will only help you when you return with your bride to take the throne; they’d be like to kill you without it.” Adam and Elsa gasped, but John just nodded. “I thought you must know. If you bear my mark, though, any who are mine must support you, it’s my law. But we’ve another problem which is much more immediate: the weather.”

“The storms which drove you from that little northern cove will soon be making their way south,” Triton informed them; he, also, looked troubled. “Here it doesn’t get very cold, but we have monsoons instead, and sometimes even larger storms than that. Even magic won’t keep you alive on this beach once those storms get here, and as they do sometimes move a considerable distance inland you’ll have to be well on your road back home before the first one hits. Which will be in about four, maybe five days.”

“And you’re weak right now,” Sel told John bluntly. “The marking is a trial for a man at full strength; for you, right now, it would be just short of torture and weaken you further besides.”

“And we have to ride out again in three days, four at the most.” John considered that, biting his lip…and then his back straightened. He held up his hand for Elsa to take, which she did. “Your Majesty, if this is what must be done to save our kingdom…then it’s simply what must be done. Arendelle won’t fall if I can at all prevent it.”

The words resonated, and again Adam felt them all the way down to the soles of his feet. Sel’s eyebrows went up, and then he smiled a slow, proud smile. “Very well,” he agreed. “In that case, we’ll do it now. Take off your shirt.”

John swallowed, but he started unbuttoning his shirt; Elsa quickly moved to help him, which made him falter just a bit. “Princess…”

She gave him a sweet smile and kissed his cheek. “I helped Adam take care of you for three whole days after you almost died, remember?”

He blushed, rather dramatically thanks to his pallor, the color very visibly going all the way down his chest. “I don’t, actually.” He caught her hand and kissed it. “I remember you being there, though.”

“I’ll be here this time, too.” She helped him shrug out of the shirt, laid it neatly aside. Then she frowned, because Adam had taken off his sword belt and crown and handed them to King Triton and was now unbuttoning his shirt as well. “Adam?”

“He has to change,” Sel told her. “Usually we’d be doing this on a ship, and the one being marked would be tied to the mast to hold them still – and we’d have plenty of strong seamen to help if necessary. In his other form, however, King Adam should be enough on his own.”

“Assuming I’ll actually fit in this tent,” Adam said. “I’m not sure that I will.”

“I can adjust things if need be.” Triton was watching him closely and so was Sel, although the Northern sea king also had one eye on John. “Have you done it since that day?”

“Once, because John screamed in his sleep and scared me into it. I haven’t changed just to be doing it, though.” Adam toed off his boots, got a look on his face like he was thinking hard about something…and then turned into the Beast with a roar and shook himself. “Oh good, it still works. And I do just barely fit in here after all.” John was staring at him, openmouthed. “That’s right, you’ve never seen this – you were rather incapacitated both of the previous times.”

“You’re…you’re _huge_.”

“And you’re getting skinny.” Adam used a curved ivory claw to gently poke at his ribs, which were a good deal more visible than they had been before the encounter with the bad fairy. “All right, now what?”

“Stand behind him and hold his arms,” Sel said. John stood up with Elsa’s help, and Adam moved to stand behind him, taking hold of his arms. Sel tipped John’s head up and looked him in the eye. “You’re sure?”

John took a deep breath and nodded, swallowing. “I’m sure.”

“Very well, then.” Sel stepped back and raised his spear so that the tip rested in the center of John’s breastbone. “John Kepperson, I mark you as head of your family line. My blessing will be on you and yours so long as you keep my ways and mind my laws, your enemies shall be my enemies, and you shall call on me as your lord in time of need. All those who swear allegiance to me shall know each other by my sigil and my song, shall hold the enemy of one to be a common enemy, and shall be as family to each other regardless of rank or station. So it has been, so it shall be.”

“So it has been, so it shall be,” John echoed, and then the point of the spear pressed into his skin, piercing it, and his back arched – not just from the pain of the spear’s sharp bone tip breaking his skin, but from the added pain of the magic which had gone in with it and just kept going, etching itself into him so deeply he felt like it was marking his very soul. He clenched his jaw to keep from screaming, and when the magic finally subsided he was drenched with sweat – in fact, between what had come out of his skin and what had leaked out of his eyes, he was relatively certain there was no water left in him at all. He was limp and drained and trembling, and the Mark was a raw burning sensation that stretched all the way from his breastbone up to his shoulders…but he could also feel something else. Some _one_ else. He forced his eyes open with a gasp and tried to sit up – although he wasn’t sure when he’d lain down again – fighting the restraining arms that tried to hold him back. “No, I have to…My Lord Sel, I must…”

Sel came back into his admittedly fuzzy line of vision – where had his glasses gone? – and very gently pushed him back down into Adam’s hold; John only barely registered that the arms and hands holding him were human again rather than being furred and clawed. “No, John,” Sel told him, his voice vibrating along the raw lines of the Mark. “You don’t need to kneel, it’s all right.”

“But…”

“I know, I know. But the only thing you attempting to kneel to me right now would accomplish is you falling to the ground and most likely getting sick.” Sel sounded amused, and something…something else, something John didn’t quite understand. Also, his eyes seemed to have fallen closed again, and it felt like the couch was spinning under him. A murmur of deep voices, and then something cool and wet that smelled like green seawater was being laid across his chest, across the Mark, taking a good deal of the raw pain away. A large, strong hand patted his cheek. “John, sleep now. And know that I am very proud of you; when I marked your ancestor to begin your line, he yelled so loudly he shook his ship’s sails.”

“He…”

“Was a seaman, yes – a very bold, brave man.” The hand tousled his curls. “You’re very like him, very like him. And he’d be proud of you as well. Sleep now, John.”

That last had been a command, albeit a very gentle one, and John had no choice but to follow it so he let sleep take him down into dreams of the sea.


	29. Coming Home

They had to travel more slowly to get home than they had leaving it, because John just wasn’t able to go the same distance in a day as he had been before. And that even though he was aggressively pushing himself –– he had insisted on pushing himself, in fact, because he felt that if he didn’t he wasn’t going to regain his former stamina at all. Adam and Elsa didn’t entirely agree with him about that, but they had privately agreed that getting back to Valeureux quickly would be better for John anyway, so they pretended to go along with him.

Their entrance to the tiny village below Adam’s castle was, surprisingly, greeted with a good deal of enthusiasm – and not just because the stock in the ice house was running low. “Let me guess, either Cogsworth has been driving you all crazy or my wife has?” Adam asked the third overly-ebullient shopkeeper who greeted them when they stopped to let the horses get a drink from the fountain. “I wasn’t gone _that_ long, really.”

“It was long enough. Please don’t ever leave us again!” the woman exclaimed, impulsively throwing her arms around him. “Oh Prince Adam, please don’t ever leave us again!”

Adam gently put her away from him. “My dear lady, hopefully I won’t ever have to go on a quest such as this one again in my lifetime; once was definitely enough. But it’s King Adam now, and I’d be obliged if you passed that around for me. We found my parents, and the bad fairy who had lured them away, and Princess Elsa imprisoned her in a block of ice so she can’t do it again. Twice was more than enough, I think.”

The woman’s eyes went round. “Twice…”

“Princess Elsa is my sister,” Adam informed her gravely. “They were her parents as well, which means Arendelle is our sister-kingdom and we shall certainly be establishing some stronger ties with them because of it. And I came across some others we might be able to do some trade with as well, so things will be improving a great deal in the time to come – we’ll see the return of the famous Rubis Marché.” He gave her a smile. “In light of all that, I hope my absence will prove to have been worth the aggravation it caused my subjects.”

Her response was to hug him again, nearly squeezing the breath out of him, and then she hugged Elsa as well and John for good measure before running off down the cobbled street calling out that she had news and it was wonderful and they had a king again! Which had the effect of drawing everyone else to her, thereby allowing the three travelers to continue making their way up to the castle without being stopped again.

Adam had, in fact, planned his re-entrance to his kingdom most carefully before he’d gotten there; he meant to surprise his people with his reappearance and immediately give out the story he wanted them to go on with. This tactic seemed to have worked in the village, he’d see if it was the same within the castle. With that in mind, he pushed open the large doors and strode into the marble foyer calling for Cogsworth, who came at such a run he very nearly fell down the stairs. Adam leveled a long look at the fussy little man while he was still stammering out his surprise and dismay. “What I want to know,” he interrupted in a firm voice, “is whether or not our defeat of the bad fairy who cast the original curse has cured Belle of her…condition. Has it, Cogsworth? Because if it hasn’t, other steps will have to be taken.”

Cogsworth wrung his hands. “I don’t…oh Your Highness, I don’t know! She’s not here!”

Adam felt a pang of dismay. He’d accepted that Belle didn’t love him as he was – and that he was unwilling to indulge her bestial obsession even though it was now within his power – but he had loved her, and at least a small part of him had hoped she might have come to her senses while he was gone and possibly even missed him. “She…left?”

Cogsworth shook his head violently. “She simply disappeared! The hall maid heard her scream one night, but the door to Lady Belle’s chambers wouldn’t open and then she heard voices inside and there was a flash of light. The girl screamed for help herself, but when we got there the door wasn’t even locked. Every other door in her ladyship’s chambers was open and her…statue had melted and all but flooded the sitting room. There was nothing missing, no way she could have gotten out or anyone could have gotten in to abduct her. It had to be magic!

“Yet the girl said she heard voices, as in more than one?” John asked, and sighed when Cogsworth nodded. “The other fairy, do you think, Adam?”

Adam nodded slowly. “I think it may have been, yes. But as she’s a good fairy rather than a bad one…”

“She may have come to see about the curse, and taken it upon herself to help,” John finished for him. “We met her in the kingdom of Asher,” he explained to Cogsworth. “King Adam rather accidentally stumbled into a plan she had going and then helped it come to a satisfactory conclusion. She’s the one who broke the second curse which had taken away the name of his kingdom, in fact.”

“That we noticed, yes.” Cogsworth had finally picked up on the obvious. “K-King? Your Highness, you can’t…”

“As I’m wearing my father’s royal signet, yes I most certainly can,” Adam cut him off, holding out his hand to display the ring he’d found carelessly tossed in with the rest of his father’s ornaments. “I’ve his crown as well, I just didn’t think it was a good idea to go riding around the countryside with it on. As I already said, we found my parents and defeated the bad fairy who’d lured them away from both of their kingdoms. Their other kingdom was Arendelle. Princess Elsa and her sister Anna are _my_ younger sisters.”

“So, your parents…”

“Were destroyed by the bad fairy and their own weakness,” Adam told him, shaking his head. “I don’t wish to speak of it, and I know Elsa doesn’t either. Suffice it to say that chapter in our family history is over now, and it was not a happy one. The one we write for ourselves will be better.”

“Of course, Your Hi…Your Majesty.” Cogsworth bowed, and seemed to regain some of his usual fussiness. “My apologies for keeping you standing about in the hall after your highly successful journey. Will you retire until supper, or…”

“You’re back!” Mrs. Potts had appeared, beaming. “Prince Adam, you should have let us know you were…”

And then she stopped, hand flying to her mouth in shock and horror. It was apparent to Adam and Elsa that she had just caught sight of John, although this wasn’t apparent to John at all because he immediately became confused and looked behind himself as though expecting something awful to have materialized there. “What…”

“You’ve…lost some weight, John,” Adam reminded him gently; he was trying not to smile. “I believe she’s surprised by your changed appearance.”

John snorted. “These clothes are just too big, I haven’t lost that much weight…”

Elsa patted his arm. “Yes, you have. Hasn’t he, Mrs. Potts?”

The motherly cook had gone red, then white, and then red again; she looked like she wanted to cry. “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness,” she fluttered, and then descended on the still bemused John all at once and started to gently chivvy him toward the stairs. “Oh my dear…to bed, you must go to bed at once! However did you get into such a state…”

“The bad fairy tried to kill him, and then we had a very difficult time getting away from that place,” Adam helpfully provided, and this time he did smile when John scowled at him. “She’s right, you should go rest. We’ll see you for supper, John, you’ll not be missing anything that can’t wait until then.”

“But I…”

“Must go to bed now!” Mrs. Potts insisted. She had that look on her face, the one John particularly disliked because he wasn’t able to get around her when she wore it, and he resented that fact all the way to his room until he sat down on his bed to take his boots off…

…Where he promptly fell into an exhausted sleep and thereby escaped the rest of the dreaded fussing by virtue of simply not being aware of it anymore.

 

Adam was still downstairs speaking to Cogsworth when Mrs. Potts finally came back down, pulling Elsa along with her. “I knew it was a bad idea!” the cook was insisting. “None of you should ever have left, and now look what’s come of it!”

Adam saw at a glance that his sister was somewhat annoyed, but not enough that she was willing to forcibly free herself from the older woman’s grasp. “Adam, she won’t listen when I try to explain. Can you…”

“Of course.” Adam drew himself up, just a bit. “Mrs. Potts, please unhand my sister and tell me what you’re going on about.”

She blinked at him, and he realized that at least part of what was manifesting as anger was actually worry. “Your Highness, you don’t have any siblings.”

“I do,” Adam corrected. “Two of them – Elsa and her sister Anna.”

“And it’s ‘Your Majesty’ now,” Cogsworth put in. “They found their parents, Agatha.”

She frowned at him. “Not you too! He can’t be king…”

“Unless I find my parents. Which I did,” Adam told her. “And they’re dead, and I have my father’s signet and his crown to prove it. And a good part of his former wardrobe,” he indicated the suit he was wearing, “which I have to admit I’ve grown to like quite a bit.”

“He’s the king now,” Cogsworth confirmed again. “And Princess Elsa is his sister – our former king and queen were apparently up to a good many things they shouldn’t have been. Like conspiring with the fairy who cursed us.”

“Not to mention abandoning two kingdoms and three children,” Adam said. “And I realize you hadn’t been informed of all the new developments, Mrs. Potts, but that still does not explain why you were manhandling the princess like that.”

“She was in John’s room, and she argued with me when I told her it wasn’t proper for her to be there,” the cook insisted. “And when I pulled her away from him, she tried to say they were to be married. Tell me you didn’t let an idea like that get in her head, Your…Your Majesty. She’s a princess and he’s a commoner, it just isn’t _done_.”

“It was when I married Belle,” Adam reminded her. “But John never was a commoner, actually. His father was _Sir_ Jonas Kepperson, and through his mother’s side he’s head of his family line – a lord, Mrs. Potts, with lineage which goes all the way back to the founding of Arendelle. Not to mention I named him Comte de Valeureux at my coronation, in recognition of him saving my life and my sister’s on multiple occasions. And yes, he and Princess Elsa are betrothed; she requested it and I and both of the kings who presided over my coronation ceremony approved the match. And since the coronation magic was still in effect when I made the announcement…well, that promise is extremely official, let’s put it that way.”

Cogsworth cleared his throat. “That must have been a very exciting ceremony, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it, Cogsworth.”

Mrs. Potts huffed. “And just when were you going to tell me we’re to have a wedding?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “When you came back downstairs, Mrs. Potts. Which you hadn’t done until just now. But we won’t have the wedding until John is recovered from our journey, and I’d like to have it at the height of the Rubis Marché, so probably not until mid-autumn, I think. But in the meantime yes, Elsa has the freedom of John’s room and his person; she had to help me take care of him after he was nearly killed, forcing her to pretend they don’t already have that level of intimacy between them would just be silly, don’t you think?”

She huffed again. “Very well, Your…Majesty. But I still don’t like it, all these changes – I knew you shouldn’t have gone, everything was fine and normal before that.”

She stalked off to the kitchen, muttering to herself, and Elsa at once pulled her devastated brother into a reassuring hug. “Oh Adam, I’m so sorry.”

“We probably should have expected…something like this,” was his broken reply. “Curses are apparently foul beasts to deal with, they just…don’t let go easily.”

Now Cogsworth was worried. “Your Majesty?”

“It’s probably quite a good thing Belle isn’t here, after all,” Adam told him, straightening; he still kept hold of Elsa’s hand, though. “Part of the curse is still with us, Cogsworth. One of the effects of the thing…was making people resist change, making them wish to keep everything just the same as it had been.” The steward’s horrified gasp said he’d made the connection, and his king nodded. “Yes, that was what caused it. It really wasn’t Belle’s fault, she truly was cursed.”


	30. Announcements

Adam rode down to the village with Cogsworth the next day, having already sent a messenger to say he wanted all of his people assembled so he could speak to them. This time he was wearing his father’s crown and a suit of crimson silk trimmed in gold braid, and he looked very kingly indeed. Cogsworth had dusted off his formal clothing as well, and he was nervous even though Adam wasn’t. “We could have just had it announced, released a statement…”

“No, they need to hear these things from their king,” Adam insisted. They weren’t even down the mountain yet and he could already hear his people where they were assembled in the market square. “And I’ve other matters which need to be handled in public as well, so best to get it all out of the way at once.” He winked at his steward. “Don’t worry, if they riot I’ll protect you.”

Cogsworth snorted. “You’re more of a threat to yourself with a sword than to anyone else, Your Majesty.”

Adam smiled. “Not anymore – Prince Charming of Asher was quite at loose ends in the two weeks leading up to his wedding, and he saw fit to expunge some of his nervous energy by teaching me the finer points of sword-work. He’s an accomplished swordsman in his own right, so I learned quite a lot from him. Enough to defend myself or someone else, anyway – I’ll not be accepting any offers of duels, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I worry about many things, Your Majesty.” He was still frowning. “We’ve not had titled gentry in Valeureux in generations…”

“Which tells me that either nobody had earned one in a while or my ancestors were falling down on their jobs,” Adam cut him off. They’d been over this already. “I’ll know once I’ve read through the history books this winter, but the reason behind it makes little difference either way.” He raised an eyebrow. “I realize the lingering effects of the curse cause people to resist change, and I’m hoping that’s what this is, _Sir Andrew_ , and not a reflection of your opinion of John’s fitness for his position.”

“Of course it isn’t!” Cogsworth snapped, and then sighed explosively when that made his king smile. “You’re terrible, just terrible. You know I respect the man, his fitness isn’t at issue with anyone in the castle, believe me. But the people…Your Majesty, public opinion is a tricky beast to manage. I’m simply worried about what they’ll make of all of it.”

“So was I, which was why I announced that my father had been found and I was now king yesterday when we rode through the village – as well as that Princess Elsa was my sister and we’d be having new trade coming in thanks to some of the people we’d met on the quest. Now that they’ve had a bit of time to absorb all of that, I’ll let them have the rest of it. And you know they’ve all been speculating about what changes were going to be made now that I had the authority to do it.”

“True.” They were nearing the bend in the road which would bring them into view of the village, and Cogsworth straightened, smoothing down his vest in the front and adjusting the open lapels of his jacket; the jacket hadn’t buttoned when he’d put it on, as being able to eat again after ten years of deprivation had been a mixed blessing to a man who had always liked his food. “Well, we’re here.”

“It will be fine,” Adam assured him. “Just make your announcement and then I’ll take care of the rest. I actually did plan this out with my advisor on the trip home, you know – it kept him awake so he didn’t fall off his horse.”

That made Cogsworth snort, and then they were rounding the bend and a very loud cheer started to go up. Adam smiled and waved, and as soon as he’d reached the packed square he and Cogsworth both dismounted and stepped up onto the small platform which had been erected for that purpose. Cogsworth cleared his throat, waved his hand for silence. “Good people of Valeureux!” he proclaimed, and Adam hid a smile; Cogsworth was very soft-spoken until he actually wanted to be heard, and then he was positively sonorous. “His Majesty, King Adam of Valeureux,” the name brought another cheer, which he rode out with a smile. “Yes, yes, I feel the same! His Majesty King Adam has called you all here to speak with you this day about some of the changes which have only recently occurred in our fair kingdom. Your Majesty…your people.”

He bowed deeply, and Adam bowed back. “Sir Andrew,” he returned, causing Cogsworth’s face to redden and a ripple of gasps to run through the crowd. “Yes, one of many changes both small and large,” he proclaimed. “As you have no doubt already heard, the quest which took me from you was at least partially successful. After much searching and several accidents both happy and unhappy, we located not only my parents, the former king and queen of Valeureux, but also the bad fairy who cursed our kingdom in the first place – for it was she who lured them away, playing on their own weaknesses. And to our horror, we discovered that they had also abandoned a second kingdom in the same manner and under the same impetus: Arendelle, the birthplace of Princess Elsa and her sister, Princess Anna…who are my younger sisters as well.” This time the murmuring was louder; he kept going. “What our parents were thinking when they made their bargain with the bad fairy we shall never know, and it is painful even to consider so I would beg of you not to speak of it to my sister, who was hurt far worse by this circumstance than I. For the fairy made her plans abundantly clear to us: She disrupted the course of all our lives here in Valeureux to hide the connection between the two kingdoms, and inflicted the elemental power of ice and snow upon my sister Elsa at her birth in order to use her to bring about nothing less than the end of the world.”

A few voices were heard muttering ‘Ragnarok’, and Adam pointed at one older man and nodded. “Yes, that, exactly. The fairy was quite put out that neither my sister nor I had ever heard of it – sadly, our educations were equally lacking. In the furtherance of this she tried to kill Lord Kepperson and I, seeking to drive the princess into madness which would allow this power to spill out uncontrolled…but she failed, and Princess Elsa instead sealed her within a block of ice. We then took the counsel of two wise and powerful sea kings, who examined all the evidence and confirmed me as the rightful king of Valeureux.” That brought forth a cheer which covered just a bit of darker muttering, which Adam ignored – although he knew Cogsworth was marking who those noises were coming from. “They also witnessed my elevation of John Kepperson to the rank of Comte de Valeureux, for his steadfast loyalty and selfless service. He saved my life no less than twice on our quest, and that of my sister as well, and all of those in circumstances where self-preservation might have led a lesser man to seek his own safety first.”

“We haven’t had ranks in generations!” someone called out. “We don’t need ‘em!”

Adam shrugged. “I say we do. I say that when a person under my rule does our kingdom a service, that service will be acknowledged and rewarded. And in fact that was one of the reasons I came down today, to acknowledge just such a service. Master Beauchard, would you please step forward?”

The farmer, who had been standing near the back, approached somewhat warily through the path the crowd opened for him until he was in front of the platform, and was surprised when Adam motioned him up onto it. “Your family was instrumental in keeping the kingdom together while we were under the effects of the curse,” Adam told him. “And the information you later gave Lord Kepperson proved to be key in our finding out what had happened. You have my gratitude, but I would give you something that all might remember it by. Please kneel.” He did, looking shocked, and Adam drew his sword. “For the service you and yours have done for Valeureux,” he said, touching the flat of the blade to the man’s shoulder. “Rise, Sir Martin Beauchard, with the favor of your king.”

The crowd liked that, and this time the cheering had very little of anything else in it. The farmer had tears in his eyes. “Your Majesty…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say that if you have an opinion you believe I should hear, you will feel free to bring it to me, Sir Martin,” Adam told him, sheathing his sword. “And say that you will help bring back the Rubis Marché and our kingdom’s former glory. Valeureux was famous once, and I mean to see her there again.”

Beauchard bowed. “Your Majesty…I am honored by your trust in me. I won’t abuse it.”

Adam smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. “I never thought you would, Sir Martin. We’ll speak again soon, once Lord Kepperson is able to return to his duties.”

“I heard he came back…less well than he left,” the farmer said, and bowed again. “Please convey my hopes for his speedy recovery, Your Majesty.”

“Of course, thank you.” Adam waited until Beauchard had returned to his astonished wife, smiling at the congratulations which he could hear being offered – and making note on his own of who looked less than pleased. Some of the same people, it seemed; he’d compare his observations with Cogsworth’s later to make sure. He raised his voice again. “As I know some of you are concerned about Lord Kepperson,” he said, and the crowd hushed quickly. “Yes, the rumors you heard are probably true; he did come back significantly less well than he was when we left, as a result of the bad fairy trying to kill him and very nearly succeeding. Our long journey back to Valeureux didn’t help, of course, but he was insistent that our kingdom had been without a king long enough…and he was right, although under the circumstances I didn’t like having to agree with him. I have been assured that he will recover, and as my sister and the inestimable Mrs. Potts have devoted themselves to making sure he does I don’t believe he’ll have a chance not to.” That got a general laugh, which made him smile again. “He also has incentive to recover his strength as quickly as possible. My sister begged a boon of me, as her elder brother, and I was happy to be able to grant it: She wished to marry her one true love, the man who sacrificed everything for her, Lord Kepperson. Their betrothal was witnessed by those same two sea kings – and King Sel, who also hails from their part of the North, confirmed that Lord Kepperson is of the old bloodlines, is in fact the head of his family line, and added not only his approval but also his mark of favor. We mean to have the wedding at the height of the Rubis Marché, that all the many guests who may come will return home with tales of the splendor of Valeureux.”

He hadn’t been sure about the reaction this announcement would receive, and so the explosion of cheering rather took him by surprise. Cogsworth chuckled and leaned to his ear. “He’s well-liked, Your Majesty. And that will settle the ones who weren’t sure about having such a high rank given – they’ll see you as doing it so he could marry her.”

“As I had hoped,” Adam told him in similar fashion. He raised his hands to the crowd. “Good people of Valeureux, I’ve given you much to think about, I know. But I will leave you with this reassurance: I won’t be going on another quest for a good long time, if ever – once was definitely enough.”

Laughter. But then a voice raised above the others. “What about your wife? What about the Lady Belle?”

Dead silence fell, and to the horror of the people of Valeureux their young king seemed to age before their eyes. “She was truly afflicted by the curse,” he responded, with such pain in his voice that it touched all who heard it. “The bad fairy admitted as much…and thought it was quite funny. I had hoped to come home and find my wife cured, as the other magic effected by the fairy dissipated on her death…but instead I returned to find Lady Belle missing, snatched from the castle by magic. We think it may have been another fairy we encountered on our travels, a good one who perhaps was trying to help…but unless she appears here to tell us we’ve no way of knowing, and no direction to search in. Magic has few boundaries, the Lady Belle could be…anywhere.”

He was almost overcome at that point, and lifting a hand to his people he quickly descended from the platform with Cogsworth’s hand on his arm. His people, however, did not draw back from him. Instead they pressed nearer, and some of the widowed goodwives in the crowd were bold enough to touch or even embrace him, whispering their understanding of his pain, and Adam allowed it and thanked them brokenly. Others expressed hope that Lady Belle would be returned to him, and he thanked them as well before mounting his horse and turning to ride back up to the castle. Cogsworth waited until they had rounded the bend in the road again, then reached out to clasp his king’s arm – his king, who was young enough to be his son. “Your Majesty…Adam, I am sorry. If I hear any news, any at all…”

Adam patted his hand. “I know you will, Andrew, thank you. I know it hasn’t been easy for any of you, either.” He sniffed. “If you don’t mind my asking…why did you never marry?”

Cogsworth snorted a laugh, which surprised him. “Oh, I tried, but she wouldn’t have me – Agatha, you know. Perhaps I’ll wait until she’s all softened up by the princess’s wedding and then ask her again.”

That made Adam laugh. “I’d offer to raise your rank again if I thought it would help, but she wasn’t impressed by mine or John’s so I doubt it would do any good.”

“No, not with Agatha it wouldn’t.” Cogsworth smiled, a surprisingly sentimental expression. “She’s like no other woman anywhere.”

“No, that she isn’t. I’ll leave it to you, then. But if you decide you’d like me to speak on your behalf…well, she’s been like a mother to me most of my life, so maybe she would listen to Adam if not the King.”

Cogsworth nodded. “I’ve no doubt she’d be even more likely to listen to Adam, Your Majesty. I’ll keep you informed.”


	31. Brand New Day

When John finally awoke, it was morning – he wasn’t entirely sure what day, because he’d been unsure of the day when he’d gone to sleep to begin with – and he stumbled into the only clothes he found and made his way downstairs to his office. He could only imagine the hash Cogsworth had made of the books while they were gone, it was most likely going to take him the entire day to straighten it out. He politely asked the first servant he passed to bring tea to the office for him, dismissing the maid’s wide-eyed startlement as surprise that they were back. Adam was in the office when he got there, looking over the books himself, and after a small start of his own he smiled and stood up, vacating the chair he’d been sitting in. “Well, it’s about time – but I’m not getting between you and Mrs. Potts, or you and my sister, when they realize you’re down here.”

“I’m sure I’ve slept enough,” John told him, taking his customary chair and stretching. “I certainly feel like I have, anyway. So, is it a disaster or just a mess?”

“Just a mess, and not even much of one.” Adam took the chair across from the desk, stretching himself. “Nothing really unusual happened, so the system pretty well ran itself –– just like you said it should before we left. I think Cogsworth let Lumiere help him, honestly, going by the handwriting.”

“Hopefully Cogsworth didn’t let Lumiere do anything else in here but write,” John snorted. “I saw Annette when I came down just now, looks like number three is well on his or her way.”

“I did accuse him of trying to repopulate my kingdom yesterday,” Adam agreed. “He just laughed and said of course.”

“He probably took it as encouragement.”

“I doubt he needs any. The man was even amorous as a candlestick, John.”

That made John laugh, which made him put one hand up to his temple as a small wave of vertigo rolled over him. “I will be so very glad when that stops happening. Now, let’s see about this mess…” He turned back a few pages in the ledger and started perusing the entries dating from the day they’d left on their quest, making little notations here and there in the margins with his pencil and occasionally jotting down something on a piece of yellow paper he’d pulled out of the side drawer.

By the time he reached the last page – and the bottom of the mug of tea Annette had brought him – he was feeling much better about things. Cogsworth had actually done a decent job, from what he could tell so far. Lumiere’s entries were for things Lumiere himself had charge over, so that was fine. The quarterly tax had come in without incident, as had the rents, and the numbers all seemed to be adding up. It was entirely possible, he reflected, that Valeureux didn’t really need a bookkeeper anymore. The kingdom wasn’t very big, and now that the finances were all straightened out after a decade of neglect things were running quite smoothly. He said as much to Adam, who just snorted into the remains of his own tea before draining it. “I wouldn’t tell Cogsworth that, he’d run screaming right out of the castle. And right now we’ve other things to deal with which I most certainly do need you for,” the prince told him, putting his empty mug on the corner of the desk. “That last set of entries?”

John frowned and turned what he had thought was the last page, finding quite a few unusual entries, some of which even looked to have been made by Adam himself. He pushed aside the related and troubling realization that, going by the dates, he’d apparently been asleep for considerably more than a day. “What…this looks like a very elaborate party.”

Adam just spread his hands noncommittally. “She _is_ my sister, John. Luckily I was able to put my foot down with Cogsworth about the guest list, he’d have had everyone within ten leagues here for it.”

John snorted. “Cost aside, they wouldn’t fit – in the castle or the village, we’re simply not large enough to host that kind of gathering. Why did he want so many?”

“He says royal weddings are supposed to be grand occasions. And since she’s my little sister and technically a queen in her own right, he does have something of a point – just not enough to make me forget how many guests we can comfortably fit without making people sleep in the ballroom or camp out in the fields.” John opened his mouth…then closed it again. “Don’t you dare faint,” Adam warned him. “You’ll have Mrs. Potts after us both if you do.”

“I’m not going to faint. I was just…surprised that those preparations were already so well underway.” John went back to the ledger, noting that there was a list already compiled on a separate folded page detailing upcoming expenses for the wedding and the dates on which they would be incurred. “Fittings? You know Elsa will make her own dress…”

“Those are for you and I and Cogsworth. The tailor has already been in once – you may have noticed that the clothes you’re wearing actually fit now?”

“I noticed when I put them on, but I didn’t think very much about it.” John took stock of what he was wearing. “Hmm, he did a nice job on this one.”

“I’m glad you think so, because that’s the only one he did. He said you’ll have more next week, but as you weren’t expected to be up and around all that much this week one set of clothing was deemed to be enough.” John opened his mouth. “If the words ‘I’m fine’ come out of your mouth, John…”

“They weren’t going to.” He was blushing. “I was going to say…he’s probably not wrong. If I hadn’t woken up worrying about the books, I’d likely still be upstairs.”

Adam stretched, getting a little more comfortable. “Well, I’m sure you’ll rest better for knowing the kingdom isn’t about to come crashing down around us.” He winced at the same time John did. “Probably a turn of phrase I shouldn’t use for a while.”

“No, probably not.” John shuddered, closing the ledger on the folded sheet and settling back in his chair as well. “So, what else have I missed?”

“I gave Cogsworth a title, he’s Sir Andrew now. Then we went down to the village to make some announcements, and I made a ‘sir’ of Master Beauchard as well, which delighted almost everyone in the village – although not half as much as my announcing you were marrying my sister did. I’m surprised that cheer wasn’t heard up here at the castle.” He smiled at his friend’s look of shock. “You are well-liked here, John. You helped put the kingdom back on its feet, you helped them get to know their prince and stop being afraid of him, and then you accompanied him on a ridiculous quest which saw to breaking the last of the curse the kingdom had been under…and came back half-dead for it, which Mrs. Potts is still giving me evil looks for. Sir Martin wished you a speedy recovery, by the way.”

“Sir…oh, Master Beauchard. I’ll have to thank him for his good wishes later.” John picked up his mug and looked into it. “Do you suppose if we rang the bell she’d bring me more tea and not a lecture? I don’t really want to go back to bed just yet – after the tea, definitely, but not just yet.”

“That sounds like a reasonable request to me.” Adam rang the bell, knowing that someone was doubtless just outside the door, and Lumiere almost immediately stuck his head in. “Lumiere, we’d like some more tea, please, before John goes back upstairs.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“And congratulations,” John told him. “I saw Annette on my way down.”

The tall man smiled and bowed. “Thank you, my lord. Just tea, nothing else?”

“I can’t really think of anything…”

“Surprise us,” Adam told him. “John left most of his appetite behind at the conclusion of our quest, I think, and we’ll have to tempt him into finding it again.”

That made Lumiere smile even wider. “Leave it to me, Your Majesty.”

He sailed out of the room, and John sighed. “I’m really not hungry, Adam.”

“Because you haven’t been eating,” Adam scolded lightly. “And I know you’ve been too tired to care, but we’re home now and the servants are going to fuss you to death. And you’re going to let them, because I’m the king and I said so and no one is allowed to contradict me.”

“I contradict you all the time.”

Adam smiled. “Yet another excellent reason for you to be my brother-in-law, don’t you think? You can argue with me day and night and no one can say a thing about it. Except me, of course.”

John chuckled. “Of course. But you won’t, because it’s my job to help you keep your crown on straight.”

“That it is.” Adam waved a hand at the ledger. “And it’s Cogsworth’s job to handle most of the wedding business, thankfully – I wouldn’t have known where to start, much less known what had to be done when to make it all come together properly. Apparently we’ll need to begin sending the invitations within the next few weeks if we’re going to have the wedding in mid-autumn. Getting one to Asher won’t be a problem, of course, but do you have any ideas on how we should go about sending something to King Triton? I know he wouldn’t be able to come, but I believe we should send him some sort of token in thanks for all his help.”

“Yes, and to let him know we made it home and all is well – assuming Lord Sel hasn’t told him already, since I’m fairly sure he knows.” John considered it. “I believe you said Elsa let him know we were back on his beach by dropping a note encased in ice…perhaps one encased in glass, or coated with a thick layer of wax?

“Or both, just to be safe,” Adam agreed. “I can speak with the glassmaker in the village, I’ll tell him it’s for a king who lives near the shore. Which is the truth, I’m just not going to tell him which direction off the shore King Triton and his daughters happen to live in.”

“Probably for the best, yes.” John tapped his finger on the desk. “We’ll also need to take some special precautions getting an invitation to Elsa’s sister, Queen Anna. I’m…not sure what sort of reception a messenger from here, with a message like that, is going to get.”

Adam nodded. “I hadn’t forgotten you saying you weren’t sure if the lies had been believed in that quarter or not, so I’ve already got Cogsworth pondering over the best way to see that invitation delivered. Will there be anyone else in Arendelle who needs to know?”

John shook his head. “My father was the last of his line, it appeared to have just…died out, like a vine withering as winter draws near. And of course my mother’s family wouldn’t be on the guest list even if I did know who they were. Not to mention they’ll likely be gone by the time Elsa and I return anyway.” Adam raised an eyebrow at that, and he shrugged. “Lord Sel will most likely exile them. They broke his laws, yes, and knowingly at that, but that’s not an offense punishable by death under normal circumstances. If they’d sought _my_ death it might have been, but they didn’t – they just ignored my existence, and that with the agreement of the queen.”

The eyebrow stayed up. “What about the royal councilors?”

“I can’t prove they were trying to kill me,” John pointed out. “Not that I’m not fairly certain they were, because I am…”

“And so is Elsa.” Adam chuckled when his eyes widened. “She figured that out before we encountered the fireflies, while you and I were digging the old man’s grave – she told me it was the first time the frost pattern for Ragnarok tried to form, in fact, right there in the middle of that meadow. She was much more displeased with the councilors for trying to use her to kill you than she was over them wanting to kill her.”

“Of course I was.” Elsa swept in through the side door, smiling when John and Adam both jumped. She kissed John’s temple, then perched on the edge of the desk. “That isn’t something you need to worry over right now, though. We have the entire winter to figure out what to do with Chief Councilor Tarben and the others, John.”

“True,” he agreed, taking her hand. “The answer will still probably be exile, though – I’d prefer our first official acts to not be ordering multiple executions, it sets a bad precedent. We’re not the Northmen.”

This time Adam’s eyes widened. “I take it they’re…rather harsh?”

John smiled. “Rather, yes. My father told me they’re honorable in their own way, and that once you’ve gained their respect they’ll deal fairly with you unless you do something to lose it. I’ve only met a few of them, but from what I saw he was right. And that’s another thing I want to do, strengthen Arendelle’s ties with them. We need an ally the Danes are actually afraid of, but one with no current interest in co-opting us themselves…”

Elsa cut him off by putting her free hand over his mouth. “I said stop,” she ordered gently. “You can work on the books, you can offer your opinion on the plans for the wedding, and you can help Adam and Cogsworth and I figure out the invitations. But you’re not to worry over politics until after we’re married – and then, we’ll worry together.”

He nodded agreement and removed the silencing hand, kissing it, the smile it had hidden both happy and proud. “As you wish, my princess.”


	32. Bloodline

In the dead of night, when frost lay heavy on the beach and the sentries’ breath mingled with the fog, the figure of a powerful man strode up out of the waves. Frost crackled beneath his feet, which were bare – in fact, all of him was, which caused the first sentry who saw him no little consternation. “Um…shipwrecked?”

The man snorted. “Hardly, boy.” And then he opened his mouth and a Sound came out; the sentry immediately dropped to his knees. “Hmm, someone remembered. You know me?”

The sentry nodded violently. “My lord, yes, of course. My father taught me.”

“Does he live?” The boy shook his head. “Have you children of your own to teach?”

“N-no, my lord, I’ve not the gold to take a wife.”

Another snort. “If they’re only looking for gold they’re not wives, boy.” He shook his head. “Get up, take off the symbols of this disgraced family and throw it all into the sea – tell any others who remember, who were taught, to do the same. And then all of you flee this place like a storm was upon you and wait for me down the beach where the rocks make a shield from the wind. I will come to you when I am finished with these traitors.”

The boy stood up. “ _Traitors_?!”

“They no longer teach my ways. They usurped the line from the son of the eldest, and although he grew into a fine man he grew in ignorance and I myself had to teach him.” His face darkened; the waves at the shoreline thrashed. “My favor is withdrawn, from them and any who claim allegiance with them.”

The boy swallowed, but nodded and bowed. “I will gather those I know, my lord; we will await you on the beach, as you have instructed.”

He hurried away, casting off the coat he wore and throwing it into the sea as he did so, and Sel continued on up the beach, singing softly, and went directly into the fine house which had been guarded. He found the former head of the line sound asleep, and scowled. The man was fat and soft and surrounded by signs of wealth; likely he hadn’t even noticed the loss of his own Mark, which had been in the form of a medallion which he’d worn around his neck. It had been many generations since a son of the line had been Marked in the traditional manner. “UP!” he commanded, and the fat man bolted upright in the bed with a little scream, breathing heavily as though he’d been running. Sel huffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Really? You’d be like to die from _this_?”

“Who…who are you? Why are you in my bedchamber? I have guards! Guards!”

“Best you hope someone comes running at that call, or you’ll have to stand as a man on your own. If you can, which I doubt.” Sel scowled at him. “Do you know me?” The fat man started to shake his head, and then Sel made the Sound again; the man clutched at his fine nightshirt, eyes widening with fright when he realized the thing he’d been attempting to grasp wasn’t there. “So you didn’t notice, I suspected as much. And you don’t even make the effort to rise and kneel before your lord and master, although you are well able to do so – we had to hold the rightful head back from doing it, and that with him being half-dead and knowing nothing of his birthright.” His lip curled in a sneer, and the fat man pressed himself back against the carved bedframe, shaking; Sel’s teeth were showing now, the vicious canines of a bull seal, the wolves of the sea. “I know the position of importance which you hold in this kingdom, Karl Lorensson. What of your other family?”

“My…oh, my…you mean my younger sister, Klara? Father married her off to a merchant…yes, a merchant seaman, in the Danes. A very high-born family, related to the king!”

“And what of your elder sister?”

Karl made a face. “Katarina? She’s been dead more than twenty years now. She never fully recovered from that sickness that passed through the country, it left her very fragile.”

“Did she marry? Have children?”

“The queen demanded one of my sisters, wanted to marry her off to one of her courtiers,” Karl offered cautiously. “Of course Father offered Katarina; he’d already been working on a more advantageous match for Klara, and Katarina had no other prospects.” Sel’s eyes were boring into him; he kept talking. “They argued about it, I remember, Mother and Father, because Katarina wasn’t thought to be strong enough to bear a child. Father said all to the better, as it would…would most likely have been sickly and a worthless burden to the family like…like she’d become, and the queen’s offer meant the family wouldn’t have to deal with it. The queen paid him a very generous dowry, and he took…well, he took Katarina to the castle himself and saw the thing done, then came back home and never spoke of it again. The castle sent word that she’d died just two years later. I don’t know where the ashes went, they aren’t in the family crypt.”

Sel raised an eyebrow. “And her child?”

Karl shrugged. “Stayed with his father, I assume. It’s none of my problem.”

“Not now it isn’t.” The words came out as a threatening rumble. “And you’ve been none of his for the past three moons. He holds the bloodline now.” A very sharp, predatory smile had the fat man trying to press himself back through the headboard again. “It’s your luck I found him quite by accident, and he holds no ill-will toward you as he’s never known who you were. I, however, did know. He tells himself you possibly didn’t know he even lived…but you and I know better, don’t we? The only thing he took from his father’s line was their eyes, and he’s so like the portrait you’ve got of the founder of the line it’s a wonder no one has ever spoken of it – or it would be a wonder, if you hadn’t had that portrait hidden away after the first time you saw him, isn’t that right?”

“It…it would have needlessly complicated things! And the boy was just…just a lackey, in the castle, scribbling away in a dark room. Doing accounts, of all things!”

“His father’s trade, which is an honest and necessary one.” The predatory smile widened. “I am well pleased with the boy; he knew none of my ways, was never taught anything but the books his father toiled over…but he is loyal and brave and has a clever mind always thinking of ways to improve his world. There is no greed in him, no lust for wealth or power. His king rewarded his service with a title and the hand of his princess to wife, and he will be coming back here to this forgetful place as its king. But you will not be here to see it.”

“No!”

“Yes. Because well do I know that you would stop forgetting the boy the moment he took the crown, and out of duty he would be forced to acknowledge you. You’ll be but a distant memory by the time he arrives, for that reason.” He drew himself up, took a step back. “Karl Lorensson, the line has passed on from you and yours. Dress yourself, gather your family, and come down to the main hall with only what you can carry in your hands. You will go into exile this very night, and never set foot in these lands again.”

Karl slid from the bed, falling to his knees. “Please, my lord, no! It was my father’s doing, I just obeyed his command…”

Sel made a gesture with his spear, and the fat man fell over with a scream of pain, writhing on the floor clutching at his chest where a spreading patch of blood was now staining the fine nightshirt “You dare lie to my _face_?” the sea king hissed. “You’re worse than a coward, you’re a disgrace – not just to the line, but to everything that makes a man.”

He threw back his head and a different Sound came out; this one was deep and resonant and it seemed to be calling for something…and something came. A mist formed beside him, coalesced into the form of a man in a long, old-fashioned coat over a silk waistcoat and trousers and high seaman’s boots, his curly brown hair pulled back at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. He was the very image of John Kepperson, albeit older and with blue eyes instead of brown. The man bowed. “My Lord Sel, you called me from my rest?”

“I had to restart your line, Ari,” Sel told him, waving a contemptuous hand at Karl. “This poor excuse for a man betrayed it, and broke my laws; he didn’t even notice that the Mark he wore had disappeared until he went hunting for it in fear of me.”

The man called Ari raised an eyebrow, looking his cowering descendant over with a critical eye. “Well, it looks like my line prospered, anyway – it’s obvious this one has wealth and does no work. What did he do to earn the mark of disfavor you just put on him?”

“Lied to my face about the true head, tried to make it his father’s problem after he’d already told me the boy was none of his.”

Ari whistled. “Stupid and cowardly, bad combination. The new head?”

“Brave, loyal, intelligent, and looks so like you he can’t be mistaken for any other bloodline.” Sel’s lip curled. “Which of course means there’s corruption in the castle as well, as all of them kept his birthright a secret from him, but he’ll have to sort that out himself – his current lord loves him like a brother and gave him rank in that country as well, and he’s to marry the heir to this throne and come back here as king.”

The former seaman smiled. “Then I’m a proud shade indeed this day, my lord. This house?”

“If you can find one worthy to stay, they’ll have it; if not, I’ll send someone.”

“I’ll have a look,” Ari told him, and solidified somewhat more as he bowed again to Sel, who clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared. Ari glared down at the deposed head of his family. “I am ashamed of you,” he declared coldly. “On your feet, you worthless piece of pork, and get yourself down to the hall to wait for me.”

Karl scrambled to his feet with no little difficulty. “I’ll just get dressed…”

“I say you’re as dressed as you deserve to be,” his ancestor cut him off. “Now do as I say and get down to the hall. I’ll send the others after you.” He glared down the last of the man’s frightened hesitation, sending him scurrying out of the room on bare feet, and then began to walk the corridors he well remembered – he’d helped build this house, after all – searching out the rest of the line. He rousted the man’s wife, a plump woman who yet had a pinched face as though she were permanently displeased by something, and then started on the daughters. One was missing, her bed empty, and he tracked her down to the servants’ entrance where he found her sobbing in the embrace of one of the house’s guards. He raised an eyebrow. “Well this is a surprise. Girl, I was looking for you. You need to be with your family.”

The guard drew himself up. “My lord, I would keep her. I know what is to become of her family…but I want her as my wife.”

Ari raised an eyebrow. “You would go into exile to keep her?”

The young guard swallowed, but nodded. “I should hate to leave my family…but I love her, my lord, and she loves me. I’d have married her already, but her father wouldn’t hear of it.”

Ari looked at the girl. “You love him?” She nodded. “You would want him to go into exile with you?”

She looked horrified. “No!” She turned to the boy. “Per, no, you mustn’t! We’ll doubtless end up at my aunt’s, and she’s married to a Danish lord. He’ll have you killed, or see you broken and begging on the streets!”

“Ah, so you do love him.” Ari was pleased. “Boy, your name?”

“Per Nilsson, my lord.”

“Do you know who I am?”

He shook his head. “I know that you serve Lord Sel, my lord, and therefore you and I must be as family. That is enough for me to know.”

“It is,” Ari agreed. “And as you have remembered our lord’s laws, and this girl loves you, she shall stay and so shall you – as the master of this house, Per Nilsson, with she as your lady wife. Now go, take her to your mother, and then at dawn you shall come back here to this house and all will be ready to receive you.”

“As you command, my lord,” the young man agreed, bowing. “Have you any other orders for me?”

“No, but I will ere I go,” Ari told him. “Go on with you now, and do not forget what has happened here this night. Lord Sel does not look kindly on those who break his laws.”

Per bowed again, and then quickly led his new wife away into the night. Ari smiled after him, and went back to rousting the other members of the household. Most that he found were not fit to stay, in fact one ran wailing from him, crying about the dead returning, which amused him to no end. “That will teach you to aid a traitor to the line!” he called after the terrified woman. “Go to your mistress’s side and stay there!” The wailing brought a very young boy out of the kitchen, and a slightly older girl, and the girl swallowed but bowed to him and made the boy do the same. Ari smiled at her. “You know me, little girl?”

She nodded, wide-eyed, and touched her ear. “The bells say I do.”

“As it should be,” he agreed gently. He went to one knee and held out a hand to her, and she took it…and although he continued to smile at her, he felt nothing but rage. He placed his other hand on the boy’s shoulder and it doubled. “Where is your mother?”

“She left one night and never came back in the morning.” She drew her small self up. “I help the cook. Why did she run and cry?”

“Because she knew she had done a bad thing, and I was here to punish her for it,” Ari said. “Did you know this boy was your brother, child?” Her blue eyes widened again, and she shook her head. “He is. And you’ve an older sister; she’ll be coming back tomorrow and she and her husband will care for you from now on, because you are of their family and that is how families work.” He ruffled her hair, and the boy’s, and stood back up. “Come with me now, I will find someone to take charge of you until your sister arrives. You won’t be going back to the kitchen.”

The girl took the boy’s hand and they fell into step with him, but when Ari saw that the boy was too young to keep up he lifted him into his arms and gave the girl his own hand to hold instead. The cook had apparently spread her fear through the other servants as she ran and so they saw no one else until they reached the main hall, where all of them were cringing together. The wife and daughters were clustered together by Ari’s disgraced descendant, who he noticed without much surprise was neither offering comfort to them nor having any sought. The man did pale when he saw the children, though, but before he could say anything his wife took one look and broke from her daughters with a shriek, beating at him with her hands. Ari made no move to intervene, although when she ranted that she’d been promised her husband’s bastards had been cast away or drowned rather than being hidden from her his voice lashed out, cracking like a whip. “Woman, hold your tongue!” he ordered, and the fat woman went from assaulting her husband to clinging to him just that quickly. “Every word out of your mouth condemns you further, and any mercy I may have felt is draining away.” His blue eyes narrowed. “Karl Lorensson, be very glad my hands are full with worthier matters right now.”

Karl paled even further. The appearance of his guards appeared to reassure him somewhat…but then he noticed that they were no longer wearing his colors, and that they looked not to him but to his ancestor’s shade, and he looked at his feet.

The eldest of the guards approached Ari and bowed. “My lord, Lord Sel has instructed us to take all you have gathered, he has a ship waiting in the harbor. Have you any other orders?”

“I do,” Ari confirmed. “I require one of you to stay and take charge of these children until the new lord arrives come morning. They are of the line.” He looked down when the little girl tugged on his hand. “Yes, sweetheart?” She patted her ear, questioningly, and he smiled. “Yes, the bells ring very prettily, don’t they?” He glanced up at the guard, whose eyes had widened. “Does one of you have small siblings? That would be the one I would choose to stay.”

“Ren does, my lord,” the guard told him, and waved that young man forward. “What shall he do with them?”

“Take them to a good bedroom, give them food if they want it, and put them to bed warmly,” Ari instructed. “Inform your new lord in the morning that they are siblings of his wife, and although they are not of his line I expect him to afford them all due care. It is not the fault of a child that its father has failed as a man.”

“Of course not, my lord,” Ren agreed. He held out his arms for the boy, then took the girl’s hand when Ari handed it over. “Come along, little ones, I’ll warm you some milk with honey – my mother always says that gives good dreams.”

A nod from Ari reassured the girl, and she let the young guard lead her back out of the hall. He waited until the three had to be well out of earshot before turning on the now-cringing cook. “Such as you does well to fear the dead,” he spat. “You knew they were of the line, so go to your grave fearing that every shadow contains my hand reaching for you – and if not mine, their mother’s.” He returned his attention to the guard. “Take them to the ship, see them placed on it and witness their leaving. I think we need have no fear that one of them will jump overboard and try to swim for it, I see nothing here capable of such a feat. They’re to be delivered to your former lord’s younger sister in the Danes?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Very well, take them and then return.” He stalked over to the former head of his line, glaring him down. “Karl Lorensson, you are exiled in disgrace from these shores. If you ever seek to return, you’ll be riding a narwhal all the way back to the Danes, do you understand?” Karl nodded fearfully. “I dare say your brother-in-law will be ill-pleased to see you wash up like refuse on his doorstep; for your family’s sake, let us hope he has more respect for his bloodline than you did.”

The guards hustled their former master and his family and their servants out, and Ari looked around the hall. There were but two servants left, both young – too young to know him, which was why he had spared them. “It will be a long night for you,” he told them. “Put things to rights as best you can, and prepare things for the arrival of your new master come the dawn. He is called Per Nilsson, and he is who I have chosen to have this house and the rank which goes with it. He has been given the youngest daughter of the line to wife.” They both bowed to him and scurried off to do his bidding, and Ari went searching through the house again. He finally found what he wanted, well-wrapped in batting and paper and hidden in a deep cellar, and he brought it back up to the main hall although he did not unwrap it, thinking it best to leave it for Per Nilsson to uncover after he had returned to his rest.

Dawn drew near, and everything Ari felt was necessary had been accomplished. He’d directed the clearing of the lord’s bedroom, and the placement of the youngest daughter’s things into the wife’s. The guard who had stayed behind, Ren, had placed the children in the long-unused nursery and then stood guard at its door once they’d gone to sleep; Ari spoke with him at length about the way of things not just in the house, but in the city and the castle as well, and he shook his head over much of it. His soon to be crowned descendant was going to be a busy man fixing all that had gone wrong in Arendelle, probably for years to come.

The other guards had returned, and on Ari’s order had removed the colors of Karl Lorensson’s service from their remaining clothing and returned to their posts; those who had not been on guard outside were stationed in the main hall to await Per Nilsson’s return, and Ari had questioned them all thoroughly to make sure there would be no resentment in their ranks for one of their own becoming their master. He had been satisfied with their responses, and the young man who was their captain had sworn to keep his eyes on them all to make sure such a problem did not arise at a later date, although he did not think it would. Per Nilsson was a good friend to all of them, he maintained, and they could accept that his love for the youngest daughter of the house had gained him rank; they had, in fact, been planning to aid and encourage their friend in running away with his lady love when the opportunity presented itself.

Ari was more than pleased by this revelation, and even more pleased than that when Per Nilsson himself arrived at the first light of dawn in the company of his father and several other older men whom the father had rousted to come witness what was happening, that none might brand his son a traitor or worse in the days to follow. He and the others had been nearly struck dumb on seeing Ari, and two had attempted to take a knee to him in their shock. “No, none of that,” Ari told them. “I lived and died a plain man just like yourselves, and by our lord’s favor we are all as brothers. Now, Per Nilsson.” The young man bowed, and Ari smiled. “I have chosen you to become the lord of this house, you and your line to follow, by your marriage to the youngest child of the blood-traitor Karl Lorensson. And I have discovered that your wife has two small half-siblings who were hidden from the former lady of the house with the cook and never told of their parentage; they are even now asleep in the nursery, and you are to raise and care for them as though they were your own blood, do you understand?”

“Of course, my lord. It is not a child’s blame to carry when its father fails as a man.”

“So I said myself,” Ari agreed. “Aside from that, the only instruction I have for you is to keep this house in honor, a state which I fear it has not known for some time, and to raise your sons and daughters to do the same. And when the new king comes, it is my expectation that you will aid his efforts to restore our country to honor as you restore this house.”

“We’re…we’re to have a new king?”

“Yes, and the return of your rightful queen by his hand.” That came from Sel, who had come striding into the hall. This time everyone present took a knee except Ari, who merely bowed. Sel looked around the room, raising an eyebrow at the still-wrapped painting near the fireplace. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you went looking for that.”

“I was forced to sit for it, my lord; therefore my descendants should be forced to display it for my efforts.”

That made Sel chuckle. “Display it until you have opportunity to show it to the rightful head of Ari’s line – you’ll know him the moment you first lay eyes on him,” he instructed Per. “And then gift it to him, that he might display it himself and remove that family curse from your house to his.” Ari just smiled at that, and Per nodded quickly. “On your feet, boy, and look me in the eye.”

Per rose, and looked, and Sel held his eyes for what seemed like a long time before nodding his approval. “You’ll do, young Per,” the Lord of the Northern Waters intoned. “Keep to yourself in the days and weeks that follow, and keep your tongue silent on what has happened here this night – and all the rest of you the same,” he ordered, “if you would not give those sea snakes in the castle forewarning of the reckoning that is approaching. If you do, whether by design or carelessness, they will kill the new king ere he can enter the castle doors and his lady wife will bury this place in ice with my blessing, do you understand? Her love for him and his for her averted nothing less than Ragnarok itself, so no blame will fall on her if she is forced to avenge him.”

“Ragnarok?!” That exclamation had come from several of the old men – and two of the guards – and at Sel’s nod they all regained their feet. “My Lord Sel, how…”

“The girl’s parents sold her fate to one of the meddlesome fairy-folk before her birth,” Sel told them. “If they weren’t already dead I’d have killed them myself for that – especially as they sold her elder brother’s fate into the bargain, and his kingdom’s along with him.” He nodded his head at the gasps. “Yes, Hector and Astrid’s first child was born in Hector’s natal kingdom of Valeureux – where Hector was not a younger son, as he led all here to believe, but rather the only son and heir of a dead king. The son of Hector and Astrid sits on the throne of Valeureux now, choosing to leave Arendelle to his sister and her new husband. It was he who approved their joining, although I and the Lord of the Southern Waters gave our blessing as well.”

“May we know who this man is, my lord?” Per’s father asked. “You say he is of the line…”

“He is the son of Karl Lorensson’s elder sister, Katarina,” Sel told him. “And therefore the true head of the line by blood and birthright, although he knew nothing of it until I told him. He is called the Comte de Valeureux, Lord John Kepperson.”

Several mouths dropped open widely at this revelation, and one man drew himself up as though in protest. “You can’t mean the old bookkeeper’s boy!”

Silence followed these words, even to the wind outside the walls. Per looked a question at Ari, who nodded, then turned to face the man who had spoken. “You knew of this?”

“I have friends at the castle, they tell me things,” the man said dismissively. “Especially Old Jor the butler when he’s in his cups. He said the boy was the spitting image of the old head of the family and they all knew trouble would come of it eventually – that’s why the councilors sent him to report to the Ice Queen about the damage she’d done with her wintry rampage, they were hoping she’d kill him for them.”

“You knew this,” Per repeated again. “And you told no one?”

A snort. “It wasn’t my business or anyone else’s who didn’t want to end up fattening the fish for the winter. The queen forced that match, and paid in both gold and silence for Katarina Lorensdottir’s hand to seal it. Why, I’d have been killed as a traitor right alongside Jor if I’d opened my mouth about that!”

Per cocked his head, frowning, as though he’d heard something unpleasant and didn’t quite know what to make of it. The older men, suffering no such confusion, looked at each other, and Per’s father asked quietly, “What else do you know from this drunkard’s loose tongue, Arne? Obviously the queen hasn’t hidden herself away, as we were all told, if she’s being married in her elder brother’s kingdom.”

“No, they lied about that,” Arne admitted. “There was some sort of odd goings-on the castle grounds one night, a very large fire was built in the courtyard, and when they went to get the queen from her bedchamber she was nowhere to be found. They discovered the bookkeeper’s boy was missing the following day, so it appears he realized something was about to happen and spirited her to safety – Jor says he remembers the boy going out with the couriers a time or two when he was younger, so it’s likely they escaped up into the mountains on one of the old routes. And she’s not the queen, anyway, or at least she wasn’t at the time,” he added with a shrug. “They decided it wasn’t a true coronation and undid all the paperwork. And because of that, the councilors could have named her a traitor for what she did to the country and her death that night would have been legal if not proper.”

“And the boy’s as well for helping her, of course,” Per’s father said, nodding. “I’ll echo my son’s words, Arne: You knew about this, and you told no one.”

Arne drew himself up again. “I’d be careful trying to take the high road, Nils Jaspersson,” he warned coldly, “since we’re here to legitimize this farce of putting your son in Karl Lorensson’s place. Not that I’d any love lost for the greedy fool, I hadn’t and neither had anyone else, but we all knew young Per had been mooning over the youngest daughter of this house and now here we all are. Quite a coincidence that gods and spirits come forth just like in a foolish child’s bedtime story to keep the girl from being sold off to the highest bidder as her parents flee the country, isn’t it?”

Per visibly took a good deal of offense at this, but Ari’s hand on his shoulder kept him silent. Sel was looking very thoughtful. “I had known there would be such as you,” he rumbled. “There always are. But perhaps this is a task I should take upon myself, rather than leaving the uncovering of it to Ari’s descendant – perhaps this is work for more than a plain man. The sickness of disloyalty is in you, hidden unless you reveal it in your speech. So be it.” He pointed at Arne with his spear. “I do not Mark you for your disloyalty to me alone, Arne Siggursson, but for your disloyalty to all except yourself and your own interests. All in this kingdom who are as you, from this hour on once they speak of it the mark of dishonor will be upon them. And once so marked, they will either repent their failings or leave these lands and my waters forever, for those that do not will descend into madness and finally die.”

The other men stepped back when Arne screamed, clutching his chest and falling to his knees. The dark eyes he turned up to Sel were wide and round with fear and disbelief. “No, it can’t be! You can’t be real, this is all a farce…”

The next scream that was wrung from his throat saw him falling over on the flagstones, and Per frowned. “For the record, I was planning to elope with Annalie,” he said with quiet dignity. “I’d not have dishonored my line by playing such games as you accused me of, and had Lord Sel not already punished you I’d be doing it myself for the insult you just offered my father. Doubt me if you like – though I’ve given you no reason to – but him you’ve known since you were both children and your words to him are something I’ll not forgive or forget. Do not set foot near my home or his again, Arne Siggursson.”

“Well said,” Sel approved. “Show me your mark, Nils Jaspersson.” Per’s father at once pulled a medallion from beneath his shirt, the plain metal pitted with age but well-polished. Sel took the medallion and looked at it, feeling the weight of years from it being passed from father to son on down their line, then raised a heavy eyebrow. “Do you willingly cede your place as head to your son, Nils Jaspersson, secure in the knowledge that you have taught him and he will turn to you for guidance as needed?” The old man nodded, tears in his eyes. “Very well. I will give you a choice, Per Nilsson. Will you wear the talisman borne by your father and his father before him, or will you take the Mark from my spear as did the men of old and Ari’s soon-to-be-crowned descendant?”

Per swallowed. He’d heard the old tales, and seen before his own eyes what had happened to Arne Siggursson…but although he felt some fear, he knew what his answer should be. “I honor my father and my ancestors, but I would take the Mark from your spear, Lord Sel, that there may be no question as to where my loyalty lies.”

Sel smiled, and Ari patted the young man's shoulder. “A well-reasoned answer,” the shade approved. “I accepted mine on board my ship, tied to the mast for the occasion.”

“And he screamed so loudly he shook his ship’s sails,” Sel confirmed with some amusement. “Although his captain had screamed louder.”

Ari cocked an eyebrow. “And my descendant?”

“Made not a sound,” Sel told him, and smiled again when more than the shade’s eyes widened at that statement. “He did fall insensible when it was over, but as he was half-dead when we started that was only to be expected. I gave him a choice, just as I gave you,” he told Per. “And he told me that if that was what must be done to save their kingdom, then it was simply what must be done.”

The men present were all greatly impressed by this, as Sel had intended, and he ignored Ari’s knowing smirk. Nils Jaspersson cleared his throat. “Half-dead, my lord?”

Sel nodded. “The fairy bitch tried to kill him. He’s mostly recovered now, and chafing at the way his brother-in-law’s people are fussing over his health. The people of Valeureux love him,” he added. “He helped bring their country back from the effects of that same fairy’s unjust curse. He is a quiet man and usually mild of temper, but one to be reckoned with once his mind is made up about something.”

“Arendelle needs such a king,” Nils Jaspersson agreed respectfully. “As you have chosen him, we will support him.”

Sel nodded again, and then gestured for two of the guards to hold their new lord, who had already set aside his coat and unbuttoned his shirt. He lifted his spear, setting the point lightly in the center of the young man’s chest. “Per Nilsson, I Mark you as head of your family line, with the blessing of your father. My blessing will be on you and yours so long as you keep my ways and mind my laws, your enemies shall be my enemies, and you shall call on me as your lord in time of need. All those who swear allegiance to me shall know each other by my sigil and my song, shall hold the enemy of one to be a common enemy, and shall be as family to each other regardless of rank or station. So it has been, so it shall be.”

“So it has been, so it shall be.” The Marking took but a few moments, and although it looked to have cost him to hold it in no cry passed Per Nilsson’s lips. When it was finished he drew in a deep, shuddering breath and dropped to one knee. “Your servant, King Sel, Lord of the Northern Waters. Me and mine shall keep your ways and mind your laws, or expect the punishment we deserve should we fail you.” He rose somewhat shakily to his feet when Sel indicated that he should do so, glancing off to the head of the guard – who had been one of the men holding him – before returning his gaze to Sel. “My lord, I would ask that my captain of the guard also receive your Mark. He is head of his family line by birth, but when his father died a great injustice was done to him by his mother and his uncle and the talisman to be passed down was kept from him.”

“Per!”

Per looked over at the other young man again. “Leiv, you should have had the title a year ago, we all know it. And your uncle deserves to have that stolen talisman burn his greedy hands each time he touches it.” He looked back at Sel again. “We will accept your judgment in this, my lord, if you are willing to give it.”

Sel was frowning now. “Step forward, Leiv Andorsson.” The young man did so, not flinching when Sel looked him in the eye, and was rewarded with a grim smile. “Per Nilsson speaks the truth, and you will have my Mark if you want it. Your uncle will damn himself with his words, just as this one did,” he said, waving toward the disgraced man who still lay whimpering upon the floor. “And I agree you deserve the rank that was withheld from you through Karl Lorensson’s foolishness. Ari?”

“I agree as well, the impression he made upon me was a good one and his men look to him as a leader they trust.” The shade reached one hand into nothingness, pulled out a round pendant on a sturdy chain, the seal of Arendelle worked upon it in gold and polished jet. He snorted, shaking his head. “My disgraced descendant had it in with his personal ornaments; I’m sure those who knew what it was were laughing up their sleeves at him each time he wore it.” He held it out. “Per, this is the badge of rank I gave to my own captain of the guard, a man I would have trusted with my life any day no matter what circumstances befell us. If you wish Leiv Andorsson to hold this position of trust in your household, place it around his neck. He should wear it always unless he leaves your service.”

Per took the pendant with a nod, then turned to Leiv and placed it around his neck. “Guard-Captain Andorsson, I am proud to have a man such as you in my service…and as my friend.” He might have said more, but the cheer that went up from the other guards would have drowned him out, so he just smiled. “Well?”

Leiv’s answer was to hug him. “You’ll continue to train with the rest of us,” he ordered. “I’ll not have you getting fat like our former master; he was barely able to lace his own boots, it was an embarrassment.” Per laughed but nodded, and Leiv turned back to Sel – who to his relief was looking at him with amused approval. “My Lord Sel, I would take your Mark. And although I will rescue my sisters from his grasp, I will leave my uncle’s punishment to your judgment.”

“I doubt he’ll last long,” Sel told him. “What to do about your faithless mother is your own decision, but do not make the mistake of giving her even the least amount of your trust,” he cautioned. “A woman who betrays her own children borne is an unnatural creature, no matter what lies she gives to excuse her actions. Your sisters?”

“Not like her in the least, my lord.”

“No, they aren’t,” Per agreed. “He’ll bring them here for safekeeping until we can find situations that suit them.”

Leiv rolled his eyes. “You _know_ Maiken will take over your kitchen.”

Per shrugged. “So will my mother; they can work that out between them. And I’ve no doubt they will, since Maiken learned that skill from her.”

Ari was smiling, pleased; his home had been a pleasant place, when he’d been alive, and his family warm and close. It was good to know that the home he’d built would know that again in years to come. “Make sure your wife joins them and learns herself, Per,” he said. “A woman should know how to run her own household and have a hand in it, from the least task to the highest. It was my own wife who told me that.” He waved his hand at Leiv, noting absently that it was becoming more translucent; nearly time for him to depart again, then. “Hold him, boys, we’ve a Marking to accomplish and then you both have a good deal of work to do.”

And they would, he knew. Both in setting things up in the house and preparing for a quick marriage ceremony, and also in preparing to support the new head of his own line when he appeared to ascend the throne with his bride. The coming of spring to Arendelle would indeed bring a new beginning – and one long overdue, at that.


	33. Invitations

Valeureux was gracefully descending into a glorious crimson and gold autumn, her fields and orchards bursting with the fruits of a bounteous harvest the like of which the valley’s old-timers said hadn’t been seen in a decade at least. A simple yet comfortable inn had been constructed at the southern end of the village, and travelers were beginning to trickle in as word spread that the legendary Rubis Marché had been reborn. Although in truth  just as many were coming to satisfy a much baser curiosity, wishing to see the kingdom which had been cursed and hoping to catch a glimpse of its formerly bestial king.

And Adam obliged them, although not entirely intentionally. He was much occupied with restoring Valeureux to what it had been before the curse, and to seeing it become even better if possible, so he could often be encountered on the roads or in the village as he went about his business and more than one traveler extended their stay in hopes of meeting him. Whispered rumors from the market became tales which were told around travelers’ fires and distant hearths alike, tales of a gracious, handsome young king ruling a beautiful little jewel of a kingdom at the foot of the gray granite mountains…but ruling it all alone, as his headstrong but much-beloved wife had been ripped from him by fairy magic while he was yet on a quest to deliver her from a horrible curse of her own. More rumors had him trapped in his kingdom by that same magic, unable to leave it to search for her; yet others said that he was awaiting her return as she must return to him on her own in order for the curse to be broken.

Far away in Asher, King Rupert took in these stories with a roll of his eyes, suspecting that the truth lay somewhere in between them. He didn’t doubt their own interfering fairy might have taken it upon herself to meddle in Valeureux as well – she’d apparently quite liked the boy, after all – but he doubted very much that Adam was constrained from going to search for his wife and instead guessed that, having no idea where to begin searching, he was just attending to business in his recovering kingdom and hoping that she would either be returned to him or that some sign would be given as to her fate. Asher’s king kept this opinion to himself, however, as he didn’t care to add to the growing pile of conjecture currently being bandied about. He was much more interested in the other stories which had been carried back to him, wild tales of haunted woods, mysterious royal travelers, and a glacier which had enveloped an entire palace in ice in some stormy northern cove – stories he might have dismissed as pure fantasy had he not been host to the mysterious royal travelers himself for a fortnight and had some idea of the route they’d planned on taking after leaving his kingdom. And in all honesty, he was just happy they’d all three made it back to Valeureux alive – quests were dangerous business even for experienced adventurers, much less two sheltered royals and their bookkeeper.

The wedding invitation had come as something of a surprise to him, as the royal rumor-mill had only told him Adam’s sister was betrothed to a much-loved lord in the area called the Comte de Valeureux – it hadn’t passed along that the sister was Princess Elsa of Arendelle, or that the comte had formerly been the bookkeeper. Although technically that was the job of a comte, to collect the tax and oversee the treasury, so the new title made a certain amount of sense. Assuming the title had been new, that was. He’d spoken to his steward about the bookkeeper, and been told that the boy had been far more comfortable with formality than his master, and that he’d had the bearing and mannerisms of an appointed royal servant rather than a hired one – so possibly he’d already been titled, but hiding it. There could have been a hundred different reasons for that, of course, but as he’d been ‘on a quest’ with the heir to the throne of Arendelle when they’d run into then-Prince Adam, only two of those reasons were likely: Either the two of them had run off together – which was what Rupert suspected – or some sort of coup had taken place in Arendelle and the boy had whisked his princess away before she could be imprisoned or worse. The latter was the theory Rupert’s steward subscribed to, and his son as well.

Charming had rolled his eyes over the speculation, in fact. “I know it amuses you to dissect the gossip, Father, but Princess Elsa told my wife that the comte whisked her away on ‘an urgent quest’ to find her parents. In the middle of the night, on one horse, without letting anyone know they were going. Those stories about the evil ice queen in the North who punished her people by burying them in endless winter? That was supposedly Princess Elsa. One has to wonder if they made those stories up so someone else could have a clearer path to take the throne. And Cinderella has told me that some of the things Elsa said to her while she was here made it sound like she grew up locked away from people in the depths of her own castle.”

King Rupert nodded slowly. That made sense. His daughter-in-law was good at seeing to the heart of people, and she’d spent more time with the princess than he had – although even he would have sworn that the child didn’t have an evil bone in her body, magic or no magic. “Well, I suppose you’ll find out the real story from Adam before the wedding,” he said, raising his glass to admire the deep ruby hue of the liquid within; the invitation had been presented along with several bottles of rich wine from Valeureux, and he hadn’t been able to resist sampling it while he composed a suitable response. It was every bit as good as it looked, and it was making him more than a little sorry that he’d grown too old to travel and couldn’t attend the wedding himself that he might sample more of it. “I think I’ll go down to the old armory later, there’s a fine sword in there which I believe would make a good wedding present for the comte and pair of matching jeweled knives to go with it for his bride – they might have need of them if they decide to return to Arendelle. Not to mention, after tasting this I know it would be an insult to send wine.”

Charming’s response to this was to take the glass from him to taste it himself, after which he immediately went to find another glass so he could have his own share of the bottle’s contents. He’d no doubt they had a royalty-worthy sword and knives down in the armory which had been crafted as a matched set for some long-ago ancestor and his wife – Asher hadn’t always been a peaceful kingdom, and at some points in their history the political intrigues had gotten more than a little bloody. Perhaps he’d gift the Comte de Valeureux with a fine copy of one of their history books about those times, as it could only help him decide how to deal with whatever intrigues he and the princess had fled in Arendelle. Because although he also hadn’t had much contact with Adam’s bookkeeper while they’d been in Asher, he did remember the air of quiet strength about the man quite well. There was no doubt in his mind that Lord Kepperson and Princess Elsa would be returning to Arendelle to retake her throne just as soon as they’d decided on the best way to do it.

*  *  *

An older man with a graying beard led his horse along the beach, enjoying the balmy salt breeze which was coming off the sea. It had taken him some little time to get this far. He’d ridden out of Valeureux with a younger messenger bound for the kingdom of Asher, and that was where they’d parted ways. His further route had taken him through beautiful, empty valleys whose wide-open meadows were golden with stiffening grasses and distantly fringed with autumn-painted trees. He’d found the falling-down heap of a hut he’d been told to look for beside that lonely road, left a token on the grave beside it, and continued on to the place where a dark and horrible forest should have been standing. It hadn’t been, though; a large swath of it had apparently been destroyed by fire. He’d still made sure he crossed that area in full daylight, just in case, and he’d seen far too many white bones on the ground amid the drifts of ashes that lay between the burned and blackened stumps on either side of the road.

Reaching the sea had been a relief, after that. He’d wound his way through little fishing villages, leaving thanks and small gifts sent with him for just that purpose, and finally he’d ended up in this cove which was his final destination. It was still daylight, the sun several hand-spans from the distant horizon, so he tethered his horse on the verge and then went down to what he’d been told was the King’s Rock with a well-wrapped bundle under his arm and a little sack of heavy glass marbles in his pocket. The marbles were swirled with ruby and burgundy, the colors of Valeureux and Arendelle respectively, and at the heart of each one was a golden starburst – the glassmaker in Valeureux had a marvelous talent. He peered out over the water, marking the locations where rocks were lurking beneath the surface, and then carefully began tossing the marbles into locations he thought would afford them the best chance of sinking down into the depths.

Five marbles later, there was a disturbance in the water and a dark-tressed head crowned by a dainty circlet of pearls and shells rose out of the waves shortly thereafter to give him a wary yet curious look. He smiled and bowed. This was one reason King Adam had sent an older man with this message; a younger one might have been carried away and drowned himself or worse trying to claim such loveliness for his own. “”My lady,” he called out respectfully. “I was sent by King Adam of Valeureux, I bring a gift and news for your king.”

Her pretty eyes widened. She opened her mouth as though to speak and then apparently thought better of it, nodding instead and vanishing beneath the waves again, her blue-green tail flicking up above the surface so the sun’s rays could make a rainbow of it as she dove. He stopped himself from shuddering; the impossibly beautiful mermaid, although at first glance very similar to a young human girl, had possessed a mouthful of teeth like tiny ivory daggers. He filed that away as a correction which needed to be made to some of the old tales, as quite obviously mer-people were not merely human on top and fish on the bottom but rather some other type of creature entirely. His king and the princess had assured him that the mer-people were friendly, and he believed them, but he had also received praise from the comte for pointing out that in lore they were not known to be friendly to all who encountered them. “We did King Triton a service,” Lord Kepperson had confirmed. “And the princess befriended his daughters, so we were occupying a position of great trust while we were there. You should certainly take precautions to ensure your own safety until they know who sent you to speak with them.”

Although Simon had been one of the people who had been unsure about returning ranks to Valeureux, he couldn’t deny that Lord Kepperson was more than worthy of the position he’d been given.

After a time, a larger disturbance in the water heralded the appearance of a much larger head attached to broad shoulders, a bearded man wearing a crown of gold and pearls, and he moved back off the rock and bowed again, lower this time. “King Triton? King Adam of Valeureux sent me. He knows you would not be able to attend the wedding of his sister to Lord Kepperson, but he wished to send you a token of his regard that you might know he was thinking of you. And he has sent gifts for your daughters as well, and instructed me to give you what news there is from Valeureux if you wish  to hear it.”

The sea king nodded and jumped up onto the rock – using it as a land-throne, apparently. He was a massive merman bearing a trident in his hand which looked to be made of gold, as were the heavy chain around his neck and the medallion which depended from it. “I should have expected something like this,” he said in a deep, amused voice. “Your king is a very thoughtful man, to seek to let his friends know how he and his are faring even in a situation such as this one. You are?”

“Simon Chastain, Your Majesty.” He cleared his throat. “I am a scribe, and newly named the Royal Historian of Valeureux. I have retraced the path taken by my king and his companions on their highly successful quest in order to record the details for the kingdom’s records…but I have been told that I am not to set down this leg of my journey, or my meeting with yourself, save in the most general and unidentifying of terms. Because people can be stupid about things which they do not understand, especially when magic may be involved.”

That made Triton chuckle. “The Comte de Valeureux is a wise man.” He smiled when Simon started. “I knew those words must be his – magic and stupidity were what caused him to spirit his princess out of their natal kingdom, after all. He has recovered from the events of their journey?”

“Mostly, Your Majesty. I have seen a good deal of him of late, and he’s still quite a bit thinner than when they left but otherwise seems well enough. If he were not, I believe the princess would be fussing a good deal more than she currently has been.”

“True enough,” Triton agreed. “And King Adam? Was his wife brought to her senses by the breaking of the curse?”

Simon swallowed. “The Lady Belle disappeared before his return, Your Majesty, it was believed to have been done by magic – she vanished from her rooms, and a servant who was outside her door that evening saw a flash of light immediately beforehand. King Adam has told our people that he suspects it may have been a good fairy they met on their quest who merely sought to help.”

The sea king frowned. “Do you think he believes that?”

“I think he hopes it’s true,” Simon temporized. “Especially as he says he cannot search for her because magic has no boundaries and she could be anywhere.”

“Fairies,” Triton said, the word sounding like a curse. Waves slapped against the rock , gray-tinged and angry, the sea mirroring its lord’s feelings. “This is news others will need to hear sooner and not later.”

Simon bowed again. “In that case, Your Majesty, I shall conclude our business quickly, that you may attend to more important matters.” He unwound the bundle, revealing a large and finely-made glass ball which he presented to the sea king with a great deal of care – it was quite heavy. The ball itself was clear glass with a tint of red, and at its center was a message engraved in golden letters and embellished with gold tracery and small rubies:

_King Triton,_  
_Please accept this small token of my gratitude_  
_For all that you did for me and mine._  
_Should it ever be within your power_  
_To journey to my kingdom,_  
_You will be most welcome._  
_Your Friend, Adam de Valeureux_

As the sea king read this the waves lost a little of their anger, and his chuckle was warm and fond. “And the boy was afraid he didn’t know how to be a king,” he mused, and then smiled a little wider when Simon’s eyes widened. “Most of us go through it, feeling unsure of ourselves under the onus of such a great responsibility,” he explained. “And I’ll tell you, as I told him: If I were his father, I would be bursting with pride over having a son such as he. Please add that to your account of his travels, that his descendants might know he was held in high regard.”

“It shall be my pleasure to record your words, King Triton.” Simon extracted a smaller package from the unwound wrappings and handed that over as well. “From Princess Elsa, for your daughters. She sends them her love and all wishes for their happiness.”

The waves went back to azure, sparkling in the sunlight. “Tell her they miss her,” was Triton’s response. “But they will be happy to know she thinks of them even in the midst of preparing for her wedding.” He cocked a bushy eyebrow. “You look like there’s something else. Just say it, Scribe of Valeureux.”

Simon cleared his throat. “Only one thing more, Your Majesty. That missive,” he gestured to the glass ball, “is not just a pretty sentiment; under the laws of Valeureux, as it is signed by the king, it is therefore also a binding treaty. King Adam had it signed into the Record, with myself and Lord Kepperson as witnesses in your absence. So long as you and yours have it in your possession, no matter how long that may be, Valeureux is not just your friend…she is your sworn ally.”

To his surprise, the sea king actually started. He held the ball up to the sun’s light, a questioning look upon his face, and as if in response a faint golden glow appeared to emanate from it. Triton tucked the ball under his arm along with the package of ornaments the princess had sent for his daughters, and aimed a large finger at the surprised messenger. “Stay right there,” he ordered, and then dove into the water.

Simon stayed. He thought he might have even if he hadn’t been ordered to, honestly, because the sight of the sea king diving through the sunlight into the azure water had been so spectacular he felt stunned into immobility. No wonder the old tales said mortal men were prone to fall under the spell of the mer-people – such beauty, grace and power was not to be seen on dry land, or on two legs. He found it easy to believe now that these seldom-seen sea creatures were in truth the favored descendants of long-lost Poseidon.

He didn’t notice how much time may have passed while he waited, so caught up was he in thinking about how best to convey with written words the wonder he had seen and felt in the presence of King Triton, Lord of the Southern Waters, and so he was almost startled when a new head broke the surface of the water. This one was a grave-looking young woman, not a girl, and the spiky golden crown she was wearing told him she was doubtless one of the king’s elder daughters. “Simon Chastain of Valeureux,” she said in a clear, musical voice. “I am Attina, eldest daughter of King Triton. My father requested that I bring you something for your journey. Will you accept a gift from Atlantea?”

Simon bowed to her. “I should be honored beyond measure to do so, my lady. Shall I come to the water’s edge?”

“No need.” She dove and surfaced again, closer to the shore, and then walked up onto the beach on two legs. There was a shimmering sort of robe which looked almost like woven water draped over one of her shoulders and falling in liquid waves down to her knees. “Father has been making me practice,” she told him. “We can’t remain on the land for very long, but sometimes it is necessary.” She held out a thin chain from which depended what looked like a small silvery shell, and he bent his head when she indicated that she wished to put it around his neck. “For your safe journey home,” she told him. “No harm shall befall you on your travels. The magic shall last until you enter your king’s presence, and then you will have this token as a memento of your visit.”

Simon wrapped his hand over the shell and bowed even lower. “My thanks, Princess Attina. I shall always remember this day.”

That made her smile, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth, and then she turned, walked to the water’s edge…and jumped, turning back into a mermaid clothed only in orange-gold scales and re-entering the water with a glorious splash of sparkling droplets. Simon squeezed the shell so tightly it almost cut his hand. “I’m not sure written words have the power to convey such wonder,” he said to himself, then turned and walked back to his horse on shaking legs. He would be thankful to King Adam for the rest of his days for choosing him as the messenger to deliver this particular invitation.

* * *

The messenger who arrived in the kingdom of Arendelle, unlike most others who had been sent out to deliver invitations to the royal wedding, had been specially chosen only after long consultation between Sir Andrew and Sir Martin, who had known him all his life and had suggested him as the best person to send. He had some experience as a courier, but more than that he was quick-thinking and not at all easily confounded. The king had told him to give the invitation into Queen Anna’s hand and then run for his life; Sir Andrew had rolled his eyes at that, but had agreed that all was not right in Arendelle and possibly not in the Kingdom of the Rock Trolls either, and cautioned that he shouldn’t stay to await an answer to either the invitation or the letter which was bundled up with it, even if he was asked to do so. “Best that you aren’t there when the invitation is read, my boy,” Sir Andrew had told him. “But we’re trusting your judgment on finding your way out without making it look like you think you’re running for your life. Caution is one thing, causing an incident is another.”

And so here he was, in the small stone palace where the King and Queen of the Rock Trolls lived, mentally rehearsing the words he hoped would get him back to his horse and out of harm’s way before the invitation could be opened. It was sealed with the king’s seal, folded into an envelope and then sealed again, and for good measure he’d tied it with a piece of ribbon as well just to buy himself a moment or so more for getting clear of the audience room at least. He was doing his best not to appear nervous, but he still nearly jumped when Queen Anna came hurrying in. She was younger than he’d expected, and didn’t look all that much like her pale, ethereal sister…although he did think he could see some little resemblance to King Adam. He bowed to her, holding out the envelope. “Your Majesty, with my king’s compliments, I was told to deliver this invitation from his hand to yours.”

Her eyes went wide. “Invitation? To what?”

“A royal wedding in his kingdom of Valeureux, Your Majesty.” He used straightening from his bow to move himself a step back, not allowing himself to breathe a sigh of relief when she couldn’t untie the ribbon – because he’d knotted it, of course. “My apologies, Your Majesty, I may have secured it a bit too well. Allow me to fetch scissors for you.” He bowed again, retreated to the door, and told the servant waiting outside that the queen required scissors or a sharp knife to open the invitation…and then he went straight out to his horse, mounted up and rode away as quickly as he could without looking too suspicious.

Inside the castle, the servant brought scissors and Anna carefully removed the ribbon from the envelope – it was a very pretty deep red color and she wanted to keep as much of it as she could. She used the blade of the scissors to prise up the wax seal, which was also red and bore the gold imprint of a branch with leaves and fruit. The identical seal inside the envelope was removed in the same way, allowing her to unfold the heavy parchment on which the invitation was printed. Which also revealed several folded pages of finer paper which had been tucked inside. A letter? She took the pages out and looked at the invitation. “King Adam of Valeureux cordially invites you to attend the wedding of Lord John Kepperson, Comte de Valeureux, to his sister, Crown Princess Elsa of Arendelle…”

Anna screamed. Outside, the rock trolls quickly finished blowing snow over the tracks the messenger had left as he’d ridden out of the courtyard, obliterating all signs that might allow anyone to follow him. If they were snickering, no one who wasn’t a rock troll was present to hear them.


	34. Wedding Visitors

It took six days for Anna and Kristoff to ride from Arendelle to Valeureux on the route the Rock Trolls had recommended for crossing the mountains, and Anna was on pins and needles the entire time – not that she hadn’t already been beside herself with excitement for weeks beforehand. Her sister was getting married! To the former Royal Bookkeeper of Arendelle, who had whisked her away because some of their people had killed Olaf and he’d feared she was going to be next. And then they’d gone on a quest with the Prince of Valeureux, and in doing so had found out that the prince’s missing parents were also Elsa and Anna’s missing parents, he was their older brother! And Elsa had fallen in love with the bookkeeper who had taken such good care of her, and her now-king brother had approved the match. It was like a story in a book of fairy tales!

Except for the part where their parents had been working with the bad fairy to end the world, that was. And where they’d abandoned their children and both kingdoms, and where they’d sat there laughing when the bad fairy had tried to kill everyone. Almost everyone had survived, though, and made it back to Valeureux. John, the bookkeeper-now-comte, had apparently taken some little time to recover from nearly having been killed, but everyone else was fine. And alive, and happy. Except for their parents, of course, who were now confirmed to be dead.

Anna had peppered her husband and their guide with questions for the entire trip, although she’d finally stopped asking Kristoff anything because he’d never been out of their country himself and so didn’t know much more than she did. And he’d been getting progressively grumpier the more they’d traveled, which she attributed to him not having been able to bring Sven and having to ride a horse instead. Not that their horses weren’t nice; they were large, shaggy-maned horses with hooves as wide and round as plates, very sure-footed on the mountain paths and large and strong enough to have no trouble fording streams or discouraging predators which might otherwise have been looking for a meal. The stableboy at the inn they’d stopped at had been astounded by them, in fact, and had asked Kristoff endless questions of his own…until he’d realized he was speaking to a king, and then he’d become much less talkative.

Kristoff had confided to her that night that he didn’t much like having people react to him that way. “I was a plain working man before the trolls decided they needed a human king to interact with the humans for them,” he said with a shrug while they were getting ready to go to bed. “It’s…odd, to have people treat me as though I were above them just because of a title.”

Anna considered that while she re-braided her hair. “It isn’t odd for me, because I’m used to it,” she admitted. “It’s probably odd for Elsa’s John as well, though – he was just a bookkeeper, I don’t think I’d ever even seen him before.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Kristoff grunted, taking the braid from her and finishing it. “Didn’t you say your sister had never seen him herself until her councilors sent him to tell her about the damage her winter had done?”

“Yes, but he came back almost every day after that to help her.” Anna sighed happily. “She said in her letter that he was kind and ever so patient and he helped her when no one else would. And he _did_ rescue her, he didn’t have to do that.”

“No, he didn’t,” Kristoff agreed, although it might have been argued that his expression put a different meaning on those words than the one his wife assigned to them. “Well, it will be an interesting visit, I’m sure.”

Anna turned around when she felt him tie off her braid. “It’s an interesting trip already,” she said, cuddling against his chest and sighing in pleasure again when strong arms wrapped around her. “Just think, it’s the first time either of us have ever seen what’s on the other side of the mountains.”

“True, it is.” Not that he’d been overly impressed so far. The mountains were the mountains, and although some of the views had been beautiful they weren’t anything he hadn’t seen before either. And the inn! Kristoff felt he could have happily lived his whole life without encountering such a wild, weird mixture of people all under one roof. The more dangerous-appearing ones had given him a wide berth, of course – which he hadn’t been at all upset about. Men like that knew better than to cross a man who was large and strong enough to beat them, whether he was carrying gold and had a pretty little wife with him or not. He wondered if the bookkeeper had stopped here with the princess, and if she’d used her powers to get them away. Or if they knew that the castle had told nearly everyone their not-quite-queen had gone into seclusion within the castle itself rather than having been whisked away in the middle of the night – part of the reason Anna had been nearly hysterical after receiving the wedding invitation, of course. That thought made him frown, and to dispel it he kissed Anna’s hair. She loved her sister and she was excited, he understood that. He didn’t mind being the one who kept a clear head and considered that all might not be as Princess Elsa’s letter had portrayed it. Assuming she’d even written the letter herself, that was. He had his doubts…

 

A few more days of riding brought them to the valley which housed the Kingdom of Valeureux, which was nothing like Anna had expected. Having lived in a craggy, mountainous port city surrounded by stately evergreens and deep mountain meadows all her life, the rolling green and gold hills and plump, vibrantly colorful trees seemed entirely fantastic to her. The tidy farms and the little village itself were equally so, picturesque buildings framed by more pretty trees and wide golden fields. People were bustling around in the village, which had at its center a splashing rock fountain, and up above a road twisted up the side of the mountain to a sturdy, pretty castle perched between towering rock cliffs. The echoes of a tolling bell followed them as they wound their way up this road, which terminated in a gray and white cobblestoned courtyard that boasted a pretty fountain of its own. The little castle was something of a surprise as well; although considerably larger than the palace Anna currently shared with Kristoff, it would still easily have fit inside the one she had grown up in with room to spare. It had never occurred to her to think of Arendelle’s castle as excessively large, but apparently it was.

Almost immediately a tall man and several boys appeared from the stables to take charge of their mounts, although on seeing said mounts the man shooed most of the smaller boys back and he and one older-looking one took on the task themselves. Anna allowed Kristoff to lift her down off her horse’s back – the creatures were so large she couldn’t get up or down on her own – shaking out her skirt and petticoats to try to straighten them once her feet were on the ground. She liked the horses, and she’d enjoyed the trip, but it was good to be standing instead of riding after days upon days of doing it. She wondered how Elsa had liked it, riding double with her John over what the trolls had said was a much rougher path…

That was when the castle’s massive front door began to open, being pushed by a servant who looked like he was having a hard time doing it.  “Oh, she’s here, she’s here!” her sister’s familiar voice sang out, and then Elsa was on the castle’s steps, pretty layered skirts falling around her like the petals of an upside-down flower, her white-gold hair braided into a coronet from beneath which it flowed down her back like a waving river. She was so happy she was glowing, and Anna clapped a hand to her mouth, feeling tears prick at her eyes. She’d never seen her sister this happy – in fact, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her sister truly happy at all, as the Castle of Arendelle wasn’t the happiest of places and really never had been in most of Anna’s memories. She ran to hug her sister. “Elsa!”

“Anna!” Elsa’s embrace smelled like snow on flowers, and her dress was as soft as the petals it resembled. “Oh, you have to meet our brother! Adam…”

Anna pulled back reluctantly. Two men had come out of the castle behind her sister, both of them smiling although the shorter one’s brown eyes behind his gold-rimmed spectacles looked somewhat worried. The taller of the two bowed just slightly. “So this is my baby sister. I think I recognized the squeal, Elsa makes that sound quite often.”

Well, there was really nothing for that except to hug him too. He seemed startled at first, but then he laughed and hugged her back. The shorter man was bowing much more formally to Kristoff, who had followed her up the wide stone steps after having a quiet word with the groom – no doubt he’d been letting the man know to come find him if the horses proved troublesome, the same way he’d done at the inn. “Your Majesty, welcome to Valeureux. I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

“Once we were out of the mountains, yes.” Kristoff bowed to Adam. “King Adam.”

Adam disentangled himself and bowed back. “King Kristoff. I don’t believe you’ve met Lord Kepperson?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.” This time the bow was much briefer. “Comte.”

“Still getting used to hearing that, but yes,” John acknowledged. And then he squeaked, because Anna had decided to hug him too. “Queen Anna.”

“You saved my sister, thank you so much. And she looks so happy…” She pulled back to look at him, saw that he looked even more startled by that, and hugged him again. “Thank you.”

He very tentatively hugged her back. “I would do anything to make Elsa happy, Your Majesty.”

“Anna.”

The hug became less stiff, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Anna.”

 

Kristoff was pleased with the accommodations they were given in the West Tower, and with the food which was served at that evening’s dinner although a good many of the dishes were strange to he and Anna both – there wasn’t any fish, for one thing, but Kristoff supposed fish must be something of a rarity in a landlocked kingdom. He was also somewhat horrified with himself for thinking of it all that way, as though he personally had standards the ruler of another kingdom should be expected to meet. Honestly, he blamed the trolls; they’d decided to teach him royal etiquette before he’d married Anna, and although he’d thought most of it silly and pointless at the time apparently the lessons had stuck all the same. In ways that made him uncomfortable. And he’d noticed that in spite of Anna’s idea that the former Royal Bookkeeper of Arendelle must be having the same problem himself, Kristoff just wasn’t seeing it in the smaller – much smaller – man. Although 'Lord Kepperson' didn’t really seem to be putting on airs, either, merely acting comfortably normal…it was just confusing, it didn’t make sense.

When the stablemaster had sent a boy with a note for him after dinner, letting Kristoff know the horses were well-settled in but that he’d like to speak with him at his convenience about the specifics of their breed, Kristoff had been more than please by the potential distraction from his jumbled thoughts and worries. Not that he knew anything about breeding horses other than just letting them do it, but apparently there was a similar horse already in Valeureux’s stables and the stablemaster wanted his opinion of it. And so he sent back a message that he would be happy to come to the stables after breakfast the next morning, and went to bed anticipating that meeting with pleasure.

He would need to have a meeting with someone else later in the day on a much more important matter, but he was trying not to think about that one any more than he had to. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to end very well, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain the expected outcome to his happy little wife. Her sister’s reaction might be another thing entirely, but he was trusting that the trolls had made provisions for that eventuality as well. Even though they hadn’t said anything to him about it...

 

Breakfast was equally as good although somewhat more familiar than dinner had been, and then Anna went off with her sister and Kristoff went out to the stables. He was able to confirm that the large black horse they had may indeed have been bred from one like his. “The king used to have a matched pair like him, if I recall correctly,” he told the stablemaster. “I believe they sold them off after the Royal Coachman died, he’d been the only man able to manage them.”

“I’m not surprised.” The stablemaster’s name was Fabron, and while he was properly deferential he didn’t fawn or seem to hold himself back very much at all, something Kristoff greatly appreciated. “Cauchemar was chosen to be King Adam’s mount by our former stablemaster, who’d been…none too pleased about the effect the curse had on him.” He saw that Kristoff was confused by that and explained delicately, “It turned everyone who was here into a living version of whatever they’d been touching or holding at the time the curse fell. I can’t be sure – he wouldn’t tell anyone – but as this is a stable I have my suspicions about what he may have been transformed into. Still not a good excuse for trying to kill the prince, though.”

“No, this beauty wouldn’t have been a good mount for someone who was at all unsure,” Kristoff agreed. He put out a hand and Cauchemar tossed his head but allowed his nose to be stroked before snapping and then looking put out that he’d failed to bite. “Yes, I knew you were going to do that,” Kristoff told him, giving another gentle stroke. “Does your name mean Sulky One?”

“Nightmare,” Fabron corrected, and smiled when the young king’s eyebrows went up. “The old stablemaster wasn’t subtle about his intentions in the least, I’m afraid. Cauchemar is a fine creature, though; we keep him for stud, as I’m the only one who can ride him without being pitched off the side of the mountain. And speaking of stud, your lovely boy with the golden mane was showing some interest in one of the mares last night, so I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t mind if he went there, so to speak. I already spoke to Sir Andrew, and he said we would of course pay whatever stud fee you usually charge for that service. We’re in need of some new blood in the herds around here.”

It took Kristoff a moment to process that. They expected to pay him for letting his horse mount one of their mares? “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” he said slowly. “Usually people are telling me to keep him off of their mares, to be honest. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to…well, if you turn him loose in the paddock, you’ll have more trouble getting him to stop than to start, is what I’m saying. He likes doing that quite a bit.”

Fabron immediately realized he’d made a mistake in thinking this king to be more experienced than their own when it came to horses, and at once set about repairing the damage. “I understand,” he said. “Cauchemar is the same way. In that case, perhaps we can strike up a deal. I’ll let him entertain our mares all he likes if that’s what it will take to keep him happy while he’s here; but if you are willing, Your Majesty, I know several farmers in the valley who would definitely want to introduce their mares to him as well, and they will expect to pay a stud fee for that, the same as they do when I take Cauchemar to visit. Would the fee we receive for Cauchemar’s ‘attentions’ be acceptable for Otto’s as well?”

“Of course,” Kristoff responded, unsure what else he could say. It still seemed odd to him to be paid for letting his horse do that, but things were different here. Although he thought he’d make a point from now on of telling every person who wanted his Otto kept away from their mares that in other places he’d been paid for that service, thank you very much. “Let me know if he causes trouble, he’ll listen to me when he won’t obey anyone else.” He thought of something. “Do you know where I could find Lord Kepperson at this time of day? He wasn’t at breakfast, and I wanted to speak to him about some things before the wedding.”

“He’s most likely in his office,” the other man told him. “It’s the third door off the main hall on the right.”

Kristoff thanked him and headed back to the castle, unaware that Fabron was frowning after him. The stablemaster hurriedly scribbled out a note and sent one of the boys with it to find the king or Sir Andrew forthwith. He wasn’t sure what had been in King Kristoff’s mind when he’d mentioned speaking with Lord Kepperson, but the expression on his face had been rather disturbing and everyone had been concerned about possible ‘reactions’ from the princess’s family. Hopefully they weren’t about to have an incident.

 

Kristoff found the office with ease, and the door was open as well. The small man sitting behind the desk sighed and stood up when he saw him, then waved a hand to indicate that Kristoff should follow him and left the room through a side door, going out into the garden before turning around and raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re about as subtle as your reindeer, Your Majesty – the unpleasant looks you were shooting my way all through dinner last night and breakfast this morning spoke volumes. You wanted to speak to me privately, I believe?”

The King of the Rock Trolls raised an eyebrow of his own. Straight to the point, then; that suited him. “I want to speak to you about what you’ve done, deceiving the princess and trying to steal the throne of Arendelle.”

“Becoming king actually wasn’t my idea, believe it or not – not, I’m guessing,” John added when the larger man snorted. “Still, Adam and Elsa rather surprised me with all of this at his coronation. I love your sister-in-law, I want to marry her, yes, but not because I had designs on the throne of Arendelle. I honestly wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to go back at all, to tell the truth.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t.” John sighed, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. “Fine, go ahead, do what you feel you need to do. It’s not like I’m capable of stopping you.”

Kristoff’s response was to fish in his pocket and pull out a deeply red fruit nearly the size of his thumb. He held it out to the smaller man. “The trolls gave me this. If you’re telling the truth, nothing will happen when you eat it; but if you’re lying…well, your death will be slow and painful.”

“And yours would be just the opposite shortly thereafter.” John took the fruit from him and sniffed it, then shrugged and popped it into his mouth. He spit out the pit into his hand a few seconds later and looked at it – it was blue – then put it in his pocket. “All right, now what?”

“We wait for you to start dying.” Kristoff folded his arms across his chest. “It shouldn’t take long.”

“You’d best hope it takes fifty or sixty years,” said a new voice, and Kristoff jumped. The King of Valeureux was standing behind him, looking annoyed. “John, what in the world were you thinking, coming out here alone with him like this?”

“I was thinking that it was better to let him have his say privately, before the wedding,” was John’s answer. “I anticipated there might be a certain amount of physical violence involved, I didn’t think he’d flat-out try to kill me.”

“I’m not, your own lies will do that,” Kristoff scolded. “We’re just waiting,” he explained to Adam. “The trolls gave me the Magic Fruit of Testing, it will kill him horribly for lying to the princess and trying to steal her throne.”

“You probably should have talked to the princess about this plan first,” Adam told him. “Because unless the trolls also gave you the Magic Fruit of Being Ice-Proof, this may be the last stupid thing you ever do.” He stepped aside and gestured peremptorily. “I suggest you go find your wife and beg her to save you from your sister-in-law, because nobody else here will, trust me. Not to mention, it looks to me like he passed your magic fruit test, unless ‘dying’ has a different meaning for trolls than it does for other people.”

Kristoff turned back to John and gave him a long look. “You aren’t dying horribly?” John shook his head. “Are you sure?”

“Considering I’ve almost died horribly once before? Yes, I’m sure.”

“You…” Kristoff shook his head like he was trying to shake something back into place. “So you didn’t kidnap her and lie to her?”

“I rescued her from the people who had just killed her snowman friend by throwing him into a fire they’d obviously built for burning someone far larger – in the castle’s inner courtyard, in the middle of the night,” John told him. “I know she told her sister this, Your Majesty. Did you not read her letter?”

“I thought you wrote it.”

Adam strolled the rest of the way over, putting himself beside John. “No, she did – I know because she wrote most of it while we were waiting for John to recover from the aforementioned ‘almost dying horribly’ incident…and from being marked as the head of his family line by King Sel.” The bigger man actually paled, and Adam smiled. “Didn’t I tell you to go find your wife? You should do that.”

He’d put a little more force – and menace – behind the ‘suggestion’, and Kristoff backed off a step, bowed to him and nodded to John, and then took off at a fast clip back into the castle. Adam raised an eyebrow at John, who pulled the blue pit out of his pocket and held it up. “Wasn’t a test for me, I don’t think.”

Adam chuckled. “No, I’d guess not. Didn’t we eat half a bushel of those blue-stone cherries between us when they were in season last year?”

“And Mrs. Potts almost killed us for doing it, yes.” John tucked the pit away again. “I’d like to know where the Rock Trolls got it, though, because it was a fine large one. I’ll head that trade delegation myself.”

“You mean while you’re delivering the popsicle that used to be their king back to them?”

John smirked. “She won’t kill him.” A very high-pitched male shriek sounded from somewhere in the castle. “See? Although I’m guessing this means Anna didn’t protect him either.”

“Even if she’d meant to, she probably wasn’t fast enough.” A fat tendril of frost snaked out into the garden from one of the castle’s windows, drifted around John and Adam both and then melted into nothingness. The two men took that as a sign that Elsa was looking for them and went back inside, meeting up with her, Anna and a very red-faced, red-eyed Kristoff in the main hall. “Aw, somebody just blurted it out, didn’t he?”

John pulled out the pit again. “It was a blue-stone cherry, Elsa – they were testing him, not me.”

She frowned at the little blue pit, then raised an eyebrow at Kristoff. Who had managed to position himself just enough behind his much smaller wife to protect his more sensitive parts from another ice blast. “I didn’t know!”

“You still did it,” she huffed. “John, are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine, I promise.” He gave her a kiss. “Although I may ride down to the village to get more fruit.”

She kissed him back. “Mmm, you taste like a cherry. Bring back enough for me too?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Adam, want to go for a ride?”

Adam snorted. “Like I’d let you go without me.” He thought of something. “Come on, Kristoff, you can come too.”

Kristoff hesitated, but his wife stepped out of the way and gave him a push. “Go,” she ordered. “You’ll all three be related soon, you have to learn to get along.”

“I can…!” She gave him a look, and he melted. “Do you want fruit too?”

“Yes.” She dimpled at him, then stood up on tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Behave.”

“Yes, Anna.”

 

If Kristoff had needed any more of a wake-up call than he’d already gotten, their trip to the village was it. The other two men had marginally included him in their conversation on the ride down, and Adam had introduced him to the villagers in the market square as ‘my brother-in-law, King Kristoff’ without any other explanation. The cheerful little village was decked out with banners and flowers everywhere in honor of the Ruby Market and the upcoming wedding, and the villagers seemed happy and quite obviously loved their king. And their comte as well, although he was coming in for a good deal more fussing from the goodwives of the village than Adam was. Kristoff bought the fruit he knew Anna would want – and hadn’t he been embarrassed to see jars and pies full of his ‘Magic Fruit’ for sale all over the market – and wandered back to the fountain while Adam and John finished, just taking it all in. One of the women dropped him a curtsey and he smiled and bowed in return. “Good woman, may I ask you a question? I’ve noticed that you’re all fussing quite a bit over Lord Kepperson, but I don’t know the reason for it.”

She looked startled by that. “You didn’t know he nearly died, Your Majesty? Why, he’s half the size he was when they left on the king’s quest to save Lady Belle, we almost didn’t recognize him when they came back.” She lowered her voice confidingly. “I heard he collapsed almost directly after they reached the castle and was abed for days afterward; the castle’s cook was near beside herself at the state he was in, she couldn’t so much as say his name without getting tears in her eyes. At least now he’s got color back in his face, though, even if he hasn’t regained the weight he lost; he was white as fine linen before.”

“He isn’t a very large man to begin with,” Kristoff allowed, feeling rather more ashamed of himself now – and rather more impressed with the comte for facing him down the way he had in the garden earlier. “I’m afraid I’d never met him before, and I hadn’t heard many details of the quest he’d been on,” he explained. “Lady Belle?”

Her face twisted. “The king’s wife,” she told him, in a near whisper this time. “I’m not surprised no one’s said anything. She was…afflicted, by some remnant of the original curse, in a fairly horrible way. The king went off at once to find a cure, but while he was gone Lady Belle was whisked away by magic and no one knows where she might be. If I may be so bold, Your Majesty…I’d not mention her unless he does. He loved her so very much.”

“You don’t think she’ll come back?”

She started to shake her head, then shrugged instead. “The rumor is that it was a fairy who took her. And even though they’re hoping it was a good one, trying to help…well, it was a fairy who cast the original curse on our kingdom as well, so we aren’t all so certain any of them can be trusted.”

“I’d feel that way myself,” he agreed. “Thank you for explaining it all to me. For obvious reasons, I was…uncomfortable asking at the castle.” She curtsied again and went on about her business, and Kristoff stayed where he was until Adam and John came back and they set off back up the mountainside to the castle. The road wasn’t wide enough for three to ride abreast, but he didn’t mind as the rear position gave him the opportunity to observe and think some more. Valeureux was a pretty, prosperous kingdom, and part of that appeared to be due to the efforts of John Kepperson – Comte de Valeureux, now, and eventually King John of Arendelle if he and Elsa ever came back. King Adam obviously thought quite highly of him, and he appeared to have shown some valor on their quest. He wasn’t at all what Kristoff had expected when the letter with its scream-inducing invitation had been delivered, letting them know Arendelle’s heir had fled the country with the Royal Bookkeeper and was going to be marrying him in her long-lost brother’s kingdom – and that after the councilors had been telling everyone, including Anna, that Elsa had gone into seclusion and refused to see or speak with anyone. Perhaps the ones who needed to be tested with ‘magic fruit’ were Arendelle’s councilors…

Once they’d arrived back at the castle the fruit was taken in and distributed, along with a bag of pretty snowflake cookies the baker had sent up for Elsa – which had been another shock for Kristoff, finding out that everyone in the village apparently knew about what she could do – and then it was lunchtime and he and Adam both received evil looks from the cook for going down to the market until John informed her that it had been his idea and then she’d been all right with it. John and Adam had both rolled their eyes the minute she’d left the dining room, and Kristoff had been hard-pressed not to laugh. They acted very like a pair of brothers, and the servants were obviously close as family to them as well. He was liking the way things were done in this foreign kingdom more and more, and feeling more and more ashamed of himself for acting too quickly in the matter of the ‘magic fruit’ he’d been given. An apology was definitely in order, as well as the conversation he should have had with John Kepperson before deciding to judge him a conniving liar.

Kristoff went back to the office after lunch with the intention of making his apology, but instead of John he found Adam there, doing something with the ledger. The king looked up when Kristoff came in, running a hand through his disordered hair and waving him to a seat. “I hope you weren’t looking for John,” he said. “The quarterly tax came in just before you arrived, so he’s hard at work in the treasury; we won’t be seeing him again until supper.”

Kristoff gingerly settled himself into the chair, which seemed almost too small to a man of his bulk. “He isn’t what I was expecting.”

“John isn’t what most people expect – himself included,” Adam told him. “I don’t know if you realize this, but he hadn’t much more experience than Elsa with the outside world when he rescued her. He was ‘armed’ with a letter opener from his desk,” he held it up, “this one, in fact, and he was going off what he’d read in books or heard someone else say to manage the rest.”

The larger man blanched. “I truly didn’t know.”

“You didn’t want to,” Adam pointed out, but tiredly rather than angrily. “And he certainly expected nothing good to come of this visit, as he’d heard that you and your wife were halfway to believing the rumors.” That got him a blank look. “The ones about our parents never returning to Arendelle because they’d never actually left, because Elsa had killed them with her powers?”

Kristoff grimaced. “Oh, that. I’d heard those rumors, yes. I won’t deny I’d thought it was possible. Not very likely, but possible.” His natural stubbornness rose back up. “You weren’t there, you don’t know what kind of power she has – or what it can do to people.”

Adam tossed himself back in the chair. “I have seen it, actually, on both counts. And in all honesty, she wasn’t at fault for what happened. When John rescued my sister she was a child in a woman’s body who’d spent most of her life locked in a room, too terrified of her own powers – which she did not understand at all to begin with – to interact with anyone because _our father_ had told her not to. Her councilors knew that, and they still tried to kill her.”

“I know many in Arendelle were afraid of her,” Kristoff felt obliged to point out. “She did almost destroy the country.”

“I’m not sure the country didn’t deserve it,” was Adam’s response. “I realize you don’t live in the kingdom yourself, but the place is apparently riddled with corruption. John was raised almost the same way Elsa was, his own mother’s family has never come forward to so much as introduce themselves to him and he knows they live in the kingdom – that marriage was arranged by your former queen, our mother. Of course, the reason they kept their distance was because they’d usurped the family line from him, as his mother was eldest so he was the rightful head of the family by birth. King Sel was considerably less than pleased by that.”

Kristoff grimaced, nodding. “Yes, he would be – my family was of a different line entirely, from farther North, but under the old laws that’s punishable by banishment at the very least. So you met…”

“Yes, another sea king we’d become acquainted with introduced us to King Sel, he took part in confirming me as my father’s successor. He quite likes John, says he’s very like his sea-faring ancestor who was the founding head of that family. My ancestor – and Elsa’s and Anna’s, of course – was a seaman as well. He was the captain of a ship King Sel led to safe harbor in what would become the port of Arendelle, and he founded the kingdom on that spot.” He held up one hand when Kristoff’s mouth opened. “Before you say it, the reason I had to have two kings confirm me as ruler of Valeureux was because our parents made such a tangled mess out of the family lines of succession. I know you must know there’s a certain amount of natural magic involved in a true coronation, and we had to stand on a lot of formality to make mine stick just to Valeureux because by blood I was the heir to both kingdoms.”

Kristoff knew that quite well; at the height of his own coronation, he’d felt like someone had released a geyser inside of him. “Do you know which side of the family the princess’s magic comes from?”

Adam rolled his eyes, privately wondering if that was the reason Kristoff and Anna hadn’t had children yet. “Neither of them. My sister only has ice magic because of the bad fairy – who was a very, very bad fairy in that she was trying to bring about something called Ragnarok," he was gratified when that word made the other man's eyes widen with horror, "and she played on our parents’ weaknesses to that end. That sort of power doesn’t run in the family, it doesn’t run in any family.”

“So she isn’t a witch?”

“No, she isn’t. She’s a very sweet, curious princess who’s about to marry a man who loves her more than he loves his own life. Which, sadly, I know to be a fact and not just pretty words. And thanks to him she’s not afraid of the elemental power that was so cruelly made a part of her anymore – which means now she can control it instead of the other way around.” He saw the realization dawn. “ _Now_ do you understand?”

Kristoff sighed. “Yes, thank you. I apologize…”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

“You are, because I insulted your judgment,” Kristoff countered. “I thought you were just ignoring the danger she posed to your kingdom, or that you didn’t understand it. But I’d originally come in here to apologize to Lord Kepperson; I’ll do that as soon as I see him again.”

“That is acceptable to me,” Adam conceded. “Make sure you do it where Elsa can hear you. In fact, I’d advise you not to try to be alone with John…well, at all, for the rest of your visit. She’s very protective of him, as you already found out.”

Kristoff crossed his legs, rather compulsively. “That…wasn’t nice.”

Adam couldn’t help it, he snickered. “No, which is why John told her not to do it anymore after the last time. We encountered some highwaymen on our trip back to Valeureux, Elsa was very surprised by their reaction – a seaman we’d met had told her that was the proper way to ‘discourage’ men who acted inappropriately toward her. You probably should have talked to she and John before trying to kill him, hmm?”

“Yes, I realize that now,” Kristoff admitted. “I did speak to the Troll Council about it before we left, I told them I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation if it turned out to be what I suspected. Their response was to give me the fruit and tell me how I was supposed to use it.”

Somehow Adam didn’t doubt that. “I don’t suppose they said anything about the part they played in helping the bad fairy’s plans along, did they?”

Kristoff shook his head. “I asked about that too, actually – I was there, you see, but I was a child and didn’t really understand what was going on. And after reading over the letter Anna received, I wanted to know the truth. They refused to tell me anything, even my adopted mother; they said it was a great embarrassment and part of the reason it had been decided that their lands should have a human ruler.” He shrugged. “I’m basically a gatekeeper, to be honest. Me being there keeps people from approaching the trolls, and from trying to take their lands. When people come now, they come to the castle first.”

“I can see how that could be necessary,” Adam agreed, nodding. “We have the opposite problem, of course – travelers come wanting to see the infamous Castle of the Beast, and some of them aren’t content to view it from the village. The magistrate has been stopping them when they try to come up, but he wants me to have a gate built at the foot of the road to make that job easier.” He made a face. “Of course, he requested something quite elaborate, plated with gold and inlaid with jewels, so I suspect part of his request is as much about impressing the travelers as it is about discouraging them.”

The other man considered that. “It would be pretty, but the winter wouldn’t be kind to it.”

“That’s what I thought as well – gold is impractical as a building material.” Adam shrugged. “I spoke with the village stonecutter, he says he can make pillars which would match the castle’s stonework, and he was going to speak to the blacksmith for me about sturdy gates which will suit the design. They’re supposed to bring up some drawings for us to look at after the wedding, and estimates of how much it might cost to build.” He smiled. “John’s response to the magistrate’s original request on that score was extremely loud, and it went on for quite some time – here in the office, luckily, rather than to the man’s face. I believe Sir Andrew relayed some of it, though, because the magistrate was much subdued the next time we saw him.”

Kristoff realized something. “The stablemaster told you I was looking for Lord Kepperson this morning, didn’t he?”

Adam nodded again. “Of course he did, Mr. Fabron is quite fond of John. Ever since he and my sister first arrived here, John had made a habit of going out every day to exercise her horse and make sure it was being well cared-for. Not to mention he got me back on a horse again when no one else had been able to.” He did not quite smile. “Elsa named her horse ‘Sven’, by the way, and I’m given to understand that’s all because of your reindeer. She seems to have become quite fond of it in the short time they knew each other, it must be a remarkable animal.”

He managed not to laugh at the look this put on the other man’s face, but it was a near thing.


	35. More Wedding Visitors

The next time the village bell was heard pealing, indicating that someone was coming up to the castle, Adam was closest to the front door so he pushed it open himself and went out to meet whomever it was before anyone else could get there. He smiled broadly when the pretty coach from Asher drew up by the fountain; he could see Charming inside, and Cinderella, and someone else he assumed was probably her maid. He moved to the carriage door when one of the stableboys opened it, prepared to give Cinderella his hand out…and then his eyes rounded and he offered her both hands instead to make her descent from the carriage as easy as possible. “Princess Cinderella, I do apologize. I told your husband practice makes perfect, but I had no idea he was such a perfectionist as this.”

“You have no idea,” Cinderella told him, holding on to his arm so the other occupants of the carriage could get out. She was wearing another pretty blue dress, this one in a very soft, warm velvet and cut in a comfortable loose style to accommodate the king of Asher’s very obviously coming future grandchild. She put her hand on the large bump. “It’s twins. The king is over the moon, of course, and between he and the servants fussing I fear I’m becoming the most spoiled thing in the world.”

Charming had handed the other woman out, and he came to his wife’s side and kissed her cheek. “You deserve to be, darling. She’s the most patient creature on earth,” he told Adam, accepting and returning the congratulatory hug. “Father has redecorated the nursery twice already, and he talks about nothing but babies – luckily most of our trading partners are grandparents themselves, so they don’t have a problem indulging him. Although we’re already being drowned in baby presents. And speaking of presents…” He took the arm of the woman who had been in the carriage and gently drew her forward, pulling down the hood she’d pulled up to hide her face. “Brought you something I believe you’ve been looking for?”

All of the color drained out of Adam’s face. She was thinner, and paler, and her chestnut hair was pulled back in a very plain knot, but…“ _Belle_?”

Belle dropped to her knees. “My lord…” She couldn’t meet his eyes, she just couldn’t. She’d hurt him so very badly…

And then the shared feeling from the curse went from shocked recognition to something painful as broken glass…and he was lifting her to her feet and she _had_ to look. His eyes were full of tears; his hands where they clasped her shoulders were shaking, and his grip was as tender as though he were holding a newborn babe. “Belle…oh god, are you all right? You’re not…she didn’t hurt you?”

He knew about the fairy? Belle shook her head, and Adam immediately pulled her into an embrace that came with a flood of feeling so strong she gasped. Love, it was love. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed for the pain of it, not just the shared feeling but also the knowledge that it had always been there. “I didn’t…I thought you wouldn’t want…”

“You’re my wife, of course I want you. I’ve…I’ve missed you so much, Belle.” He looked up, blinking away tears. “Charming, I don’t know what to say. Where…”

“She was on the road we started off on, her horse had picked up a stone.” Charming was not entirely dry-eyed himself. “Once I realized who she was, I knew she had to come with us.” He smiled. “After all, you returned my bride to me.”

“And look what you did to her,” Adam admonished with a watery chuckle. He swept the rest of the tears away with the back of his hand, still keeping a tight hold on his Belle as though he were afraid something would snatch her away from him. “Shall we go inside? You’ll want to freshen up, I’m sure, after such a long trip.”

“Yes, and we must pay our respects to the bride and groom…” Elsa appeared on the steps, John close beside her, and he blinked. “My god, Adam, he’s…surely you’ve been forbidden from taking him on any more quests after this!”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it – Mrs. Potts didn’t speak to me for the first three days we were back, and she all but burst into tears every time someone said his name.”

Belle turned in his hold to see what they were talking about, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my god, what happened to John?!”

“A bad fairy and an over-long trip home,” Adam told her. “He’s fine, really.” He waved his openmouthed sister down. “Look who they found on the road!”

“BELLE!” Elsa rushed down to hug her, much to Belle’s surprise. “Oh Belle, you’re back! Are you all right? Did she hurt you?”

“No, she didn’t.” Belle accepted the hug with complete astonishment; this she hadn’t expected. “She took me away so the curse could be broken.” She drew back and looked back and forth between Adam and Elsa. “So you really are brother and sister?”

“We really are,” Adam confirmed. “And Elsa’s little sister Anna as well. She and her husband are already here.”

John had followed his princess down the steps, albeit rather more slowly. He had already bowed to Charming and Cinderella, but his bow to Belle was deeper, less a matter of greeting and more of fealty. “Your Majesty, welcome home.”

Belle was confused. “Wait, I…”

“We found my father and he’s dead, so I’m officially the King of Valeureux,” Adam told her, just a bit unsteadily. He raised an uncertain hand to touch her hair. “Which means you’re my queen?”

Belle’s response to this was to fling herself back into his arms. She felt the wavering knot of uncertainty dissolve, felt his confidence return…felt his happiness wash over her in a warm, gentle wave. _Please_ , she begged silently, _please, let me keep this part of the curse. I never want to hurt him again_ _…_

“Granted,” a kindly voice said through the whoosh of a wand-trail of sparkles, and Adam’s arms tightened around Belle so much it was a wonder she could breathe. “Oh let go of her before you squeeze her in two, dear boy – she had to break the curse herself, I just put her in a place where she could do that. She may not have known it, but she was completely safe the entire time.”

Adam sucked in a breath…and bowed. “Then I thank you, Good Fairy, for returning my wife to me.”

The fairy smiled and pinched his cheek. “She did that herself. And no blame for you or your sister from any of us for what happened in that northern cove; Marguerite was never quite right in the head to begin with, and she had done some terrible, terrible things when the rest of us weren’t looking. A long nap will do her good.” She extracted Belle from his grasp, looking her up and down. “Well, the poor things did try, didn’t they?” she observed. “Not suitable for a queen returning to her kingdom, though.” The wand swished, a shower of sparkles rained down, and Belle gasped as her rather plain gown became a sumptuous creation of embroidered silk which perfectly matched the suit Adam was currently wearing, while her hair was caught back by jeweled clips to fall in a cascade of perfect curls. “There, better.”

Elsa clapped her hands at that, and the fairy turned to look at her; John immediately moved closer, although he did bow rather nervously. To his very great relief, the fairy merely nodded at him before looking Elsa up and down the way she had Belle. “Oh my, that’s pretty.” She used her wand to lift a translucent silken petal of the overskirt. “I shall have to remember this style; we’ve a princess coming up in one of the southern countries who would look just beautiful in it. Spin around for me, dear? I want to see how it moves.” Elsa obliged, and this time it was the fairy who clapped. “Oh yes, that will be perfect! She’s a graceful girl, but she moves very quickly and this skirt will move with her instead of hindering her. Thank you, child. Now, Cinderella…”

The fairy turned around…and her eyes widened. Cinderella blushed a very fetching rose color. “The…royal physician says it’s twins, Godmother.”

“And for a wonder, he’s actually right,” the fairy told her. She raised an exasperated eyebrow at Charming, who was looking rather worried himself now. “You know, I’d set a threshold on… _that_ so she’d have time to settle in before this happened. You’re not a rabbit, boy! I know you love her, but show a little restraint.”

Charming turned bright red, and Cinderella blushed even harder. “Um, Godmother…that wasn’t entirely his fault.”

Her godmother looked at her for a long moment, and then she broke into a laugh and gave the very pregnant princess a hug, kissing her forehead. “Of course it wasn’t, dear, of course it wasn’t. And I’ll come to the christening for these little angels; with all the trouble twins can get into, they’ll need a fairy godmother even more than you did. Now go get those feet up! King Adam has a lovely garden you can sit in, and a servant who is very well trained in taking care of women who are with child.” And then she swished her wand over her head and vanished, a rain of tiny star-shaped sparkles cascading down in her wake and leaving a faint smell of lilies and lavender behind.

Belle looked up at Adam, who had put his arm back around her. “Annette?”

He nodded. “Number three, well on its way.”

“Is he trying to repopulate the kingdom?”

“He won’t confirm or deny it, but John and I think so, yes.” Adam smiled at Charming and waved toward the steps. “Come on, we’ll all retire to the garden while the servants take everything up to your rooms. It’s a lovely day to have tea outside.”

He preceded them up the stairs, keeping his arm around Belle. He knew she was nervous, and he knew why…but he’d also made sure that all the servants knew there really had been a curse. Cogsworth met them in the entryway, his mouth dropping open when he saw Belle. “I…” And then he bowed, deeply, the way John had. “Your Majesty, oh my goodness, you’ve returned! That would explain what just happened upstairs.” Adam raised an eyebrow. “There was a great spray of magic, frightened one of the maids half out of her wits. The queen’s rooms have apparently been…redecorated in honor of her homecoming, Your Majesty.”

Adam smiled. “I’m sure we’ve the good fairy to thank for that, Sir Andrew; she was just outside. And she admitted to being the one who whisked Belle away before, to facilitate the breaking of the curse.”

“Oh thank goodness.” He bowed again, to their guests this time. “Prince Charming, Princess Cinderella, welcome to the Castle of Valeureux. I am Sir Andrew, the Royal Steward, and if you’ve need of anything while you’re here you have only to ask. Shall I have someone take you to your rooms?”

“We’re going out to the garden for tea first,” Adam told him. “Have Lumiere bring a footstool, please? The princess needs to put her feet up.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“I’ll see everyone out to the garden, Sir Andrew,” John told him. “I know you’ll need to be letting the rest of the staff know that the queen is back.”

He’d cast a pointed look in the direction of the kitchens, and Cogsworth swallowed and nodded quickly. “Yes, you’re right, of course. Thank you, Lord Kepperson. I’ll have tea sent out.”

He bustled off, making a beeline for the kitchens, and John took Elsa’s arm. “It’s just this way.” He led everyone to a pair of filigreed doors, and out through them into a pretty round garden fenced in by low rock walls and tall evergreens, beyond which the craggy rock walls of the mountains climbed skyward in stark splendor. There were seats here, comfortable ones arranged around a little tiled portico – Adam hadn’t been willing to let go of the idea of recreating the pretty tiled courtyard from his parents’ gilded cage of a palace – and the autumn garden was awash in color all around it. Several small trees with gold-coin leaves and white bark whispered in the light breeze, and here and there bushes bore clusters of bright crimson berries. Lumiere came hurrying out just a few moments after they’d settled in, bringing a plump footstool which he very solicitously tucked under Cinderella’s feet, smiling when she sighed in pleasure. And then he bowed to Belle. “Your Majesty, it iz a great pleasure to have you back. Our king, he has been lost without his one true love.”

He whisked out again while Adam was still blushing, smiling to himself. He’d no doubt Lady Belle had needed to hear that.


	36. Curses and Blessings

In the castle’s kitchen the kitchen maids were scurrying to and fro to get tea together, and Lumiere made adjustments to their activities as he felt necessary – not like Mrs. Potts was anywhere to be seen at the moment, but he had a feeling she was in a mood wherever she was because of the way the maids were behaving. He settled them down mainly by virtue of being calm and collected himself, supervised the delivery of the trays to the garden, and then herded them all back into the kitchen and set them to work doing other necessary things before going in search of Mrs. Potts. He was sure Cogsworth had already told her that Lady Belle was back, and given the fact that another magical incident had occurred just prior to that he thought he knew where she would have gone.

The door to Lady Belle’s rooms was standing open, and he stepped inside. A fire was crackling in the fireplace, and over it hung a large painting of a dark forest surrounding the fallen ruins of a stone castle with a beautiful sunrise breaking over the horizon. A small gold plaque was affixed to the bottom of the carved mahogany frame, the words _The Castle of Ballanshire_ engraved on it in flowing script. He looked around, curious about what else the earlier magic may have brought with it, and saw that most of the furnishings appeared to have been replaced. The bed was smaller, the frame and posts carved from the same rich wood as the picture frame, and there were bookshelves on one wall which had a largish rectangular shelf set into the center of them that held a glass case containing a worn, leather-wrapped journal on a stand with an artful scattering of dried rose petals surrounding it. The bedding and cushions were all in deeper, richer colors now, gold and crimson and candlelight-hued cream, and on a hunch he opened the door which connected with the king’s bedchamber and found it newly furnished in the same colors and boasting a much larger bed which matched the queen’s. He smiled. “Zis fairy, she has good taste,” he approved, and then closed the connecting door again and went to fetch Mrs. Potts. Who was standing in the door which led to the queen’s sitting room, her hand white-knuckled on the frame. Lumiere looked over her shoulder and his smile widened. He detached the cook’s hand from the doorframe and moved her into the room beyond it so that he could have a better look, although he didn’t let go of her once they were inside. “Yes, very good taste.”

The sitting room was gone, as was the small closed balcony. In the balcony’s place were tall windows set at their edges with stained glass depicting autumn-colored apple trees heavy with fruit; that theme was continued around the room, which was now fitted out as a beautiful bright nursery. Mrs. Potts was shaking. “I don’t understand, I just don’t.”

Lumiere shrugged. “Ze curse, it iz broken now. You have not seen her, even her expression is different.” He waved a hand at the windows. “I am glad ze fairy was so kind as to think to do this. It iz a new start, for both of them.” He smiled when she turned a shocked face up to him. “Ze king, he iz different as well. As you would have seen, if you had not been avoiding him since he came back.”

“He shouldn’t have gone! He only went because of _her_!”

Lumiere pulled her out of the nursery, shutting the door behind them, and led her through the connecting door into the king’s newly-furnished bedchamber. She gasped but he didn’t let her stop to stare, just pulled her over to the room’s fireplace which now sported a new painting of its own: a full-length portrait of Adam and Belle holding the enchanted rose between them. The painted figures weren’t looking out into the room, they were gazing into each other’s eyes with so much love that Lumiere felt himself tear up. “That is ze way he iz looking at her now as they sit in the garden, Agatha – and she him. It was ze curse which made her forget that…ze same curse which has been making you wish for nothing to change from ze way it was.”

“I haven’t…”

“You have.” Cogsworth had come into the room, looking tired. “I should have seen it…well, I suppose I did see it, I just didn’t know how to address it. I believe I do now, though. Anton, would you please gather all of the servants who were here when we were enchanted and have them meet in the main hall?”

“But of course, Andrew.” Lumiere patted his friend’s shoulder and left the room, and Cogsworth spared a look at the portrait. “God, look at that – magic really can be an amazing thing in the right hands, can’t it?” Mrs. Potts sniffed, and he took her arm and led her out of the room through the servants’ entrance and down the back corridors to the treasury. Her eyes went wide when he pulled out a key and unlocked the heavy iron-banded door, and she set her feet and tried to pull him back when he made to go inside. “Andrew! You’re not allowed…”

“I am, because the king said so – he gave me the key,” he countered, and pulled her in after him anyway. “I didn’t figure it out until I saw the nursery, and then I knew we’d been looking right at the key to ending the last piece of the curse once and for all. Every day we’d been looking at it! I felt like an idiot. Now where did he hide it…ah, this must be it.” A wooden box with a piece of paper wrapped around it was sitting far back on one shelf, and he pulled it out and took the paper off; the top of the box had been carved with a rather crude representation of an apple tree, and it made him smile. “Well, in spite of all the other things young John is capable of, wood carving apparently isn’t a talent he can lay claim to.”

She touched the carving. “Why in the world would he put such a thing in here…” and then her eyes widened as she remembered. “Wait, _apples_. In the kitchen one day, he said the apples looked like…”

“Rubies,” Cogsworth finished for her. “He carved the box to hide them from himself and the king – the prince, at that time – because every time they saw the rubies the curse attacked them. It apparently took him nearly a month to make the box because of that, and he had such a headache after placing it that he couldn’t see straight and Adam made him go to bed in the middle of the afternoon.” He tucked the box under his arm and led her back out, locking the door again and then offering her his other arm. “Come on, we’re going to finish this.”

She took his arm, but she was shaking her head. “I still don’t understand!”

“I know, but you will in a few minutes.” Most of the servants were already assembled when they got to the main hall, and Cogsworth put the box down on top of the main hall table and then had Lumiere help him drag the table away from the wall. It had been sitting against a large tapestry, and he took hold of one side of that. “It’s time we all let go of the past,” he declared. “It’s time we took back our lives from the curse, the way our king and queen have. Now let’s pull this rotten thing down!” He gave a huge yank on the tapestry and it ripped away from the wall on that side…revealing a carved stone branch with gold-inlaid leaves The other servants moved in and pulled on the tapestry as well, and the moment the last corner left the wall the woven fabric crumbled to dust in their hands.

The stone wall behind it was completely covered by a life-size relief of a mature apple tree, spreading branches filled with gold-traced leaves, and below those leaves eight holes in the stone as though something had been embedded there. Cogsworth opened John’s box, the rubies within glittering; taking one out, he handed it to Mrs. Potts. “Agatha,” he said, “right now you’re the worst affected. Put it in place, break the curse.”

She hesitated, but only for a moment. Walking up to the wall, she reached up as high as she could and placed the ruby into one of the holes. A shiver went through the stone, just the barest vibration under her fingers. She kept her hand on the carved stone bole and felt it happen again and again as one by one the other servants filled the remaining holes with rubies, the very last one being put into place by Cogsworth himself. This time the entire castle shuddered, and suddenly a waterfall of light poured into the hall and cascaded over the carved tree, quickly followed by the sound of something crashing and shattering on the ground outside. Adam and Charming came running into the hall a moment later. “What in the world…!?”

Cogsworth bowed. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty; we were just doing some housekeeping and it resulted in our finding something rather surprising.” He waved a hand at the wall above the front entrance to the castle, which now sported three high-set windows rimmed with stained glass apple trees just like the ones in the new royal nursery. “We apparently had stone shutters on those, and they’ve fallen off. Oh, and the last of the curse has been broken.” He picked up John’s box and handed it to his king. “I’m not sure what to do with this now, though.”

Adam turned the box over in his hands, smiling as he ran his fingers over the rough carving on the top. “He probably carved it with his letter opener,” he observed, and handed it back to Cogsworth. “Please have that put in my chambers, if you would, Sir Andrew; I’ll return it to the treasury later.” He looked up at the tree with its shining golden leaves and glittering ruby apples. “My god, that’s astounding. I’d completely forgotten it was there, and about the rubies. The tapestry?”

“Crumbled into dust when we pulled it down.”

“Of course it did – and good riddance, it was hideous. No one was hurt, were they?”

“No, but we probably have the very devil of a mess to clean up in the courtyard.” Cogsworth gestured to one of the other servants to go see about that. “Lord Kepperson is guarding Her Majesty and the princesses?”

Adam snorted. “Kristoff is, he and Anna joined us for tea. Elsa kept John from following me by sitting on him.” Belle came hurrying into the hall, and he waved her over. “Everything’s fine, that was just Cogsworth and the others breaking the last part of the curse. Oh, and we apparently have windows in here.”

“And a very large tree,” Charming added. “I agree, Adam, it’s much better than that tapestry.”

Belle’s hand flew to her mouth when she saw the carved tree. “I…I remember that,” she whispered. “Oh god, I remember…my father lifting me up to see it better. He said every ruby stood for one king of Valeureux.” She pointed. “That one…that one’s your father’s, Adam, it was the last one placed on the tree.”

“Hmm.” Adam considered that, then shook his head. “We brought back a sackful of gemstones from our quest, but…no, I really don’t think we should keep doing this. Every one of those stones you just replaced on the tree is priceless,” he explained when several of the servants present looked like they might want to disagree with him. “John said that the first time he laid eyes on them; they’re so large he couldn’t even begin to guess how much they were worth. This is a beautiful piece of work, and we’ll keep it as it is in remembrance of my ancestors…but for myself, personally I don’t feel this is a wise use of our kingdom’s wealth. The gold and gems in our treasury are mine in trust for Valeureux, not a personal fortune to play with just to amuse myself.”

And the castle shuddered again, even harder this time. The golden leaves on the stone tree glowed, there was a blinding flash…and then everything was exactly as it had been, except that in the center of the tree’s golden leaves was now embedded a massive ruby, easily twice the size of any of the others, and below on either side of the stone trunk a carved plaque had appeared with the name of each king from the first to the last engraved upon it – five on the left side, and on the right four more. The name of each king was listed with some sort of additional appellation as well: James the Valiant, first king of Valeureux, followed by others such as Albert the Rogue, Josse the Mighty, Florian the Wise, Hector the Fool…and Adam the Gallant.

If Charming hadn’t caught his arm, Adam probably would have sat down flat on the floor in shock. Belle reacted before anyone else could, taking his face in her hands and looking him in the eye. “Adam, the magic speaks truly,” she told him, addressing the doubt and disbelief she could feel washing over her. “It does! You have always been that, always. Trust me when I say that even as a Beast…you were never a monster.”

He saw the truth in her eyes, she felt it. “How do you know…”

“There was at least one other before you: The Beast of Ballanshire.”

Lumiere gasped; so did Cogsworth. “Your Majesty, there is a painting in your room, a ruined castle in a dark winter wood. It is called ze Castle of Ballanshire.”

Belle turned in Adam’s hold – he wasn’t letting go – and nodded. “It was at least a hundred years ago, I think. The lord of that castle…he was a monster in a man’s body, and a fairy punished him by making his form match his nature. She also punished his servants for enabling his cruelties, leaving them trapped with him, inaudible and invisible except for their hands.” She looked at each one of them in turn. “You…you don’t know how bad it could have been had your prince not been an innocent when he was cursed, believe me. Their master brutalized his last chance for salvation, and she…she died in a hidden chamber beneath the cellar, unable to see or hear the servant who sat with her in her final hours, while the Beast rampaged through the castle searching for her, tearing off the hands of any servant he could catch hold of. Her death sealed his fate, and he died within days…but the servants were still trapped with no way to save themselves.”

Cogsworth moved to touch her arm. “Was it because…the castle was still standing?” She nodded, and he swallowed hard. “That does make sense. So you…”

“Ordered them to set it on fire – luckily there wasn’t enough snow to put it out. They couldn’t destroy the place of their own volition, the curse wouldn’t let them. There was a…a journal,” she explained. “With the dead girl’s body. They’d made a record of all that had happened, hoping someone would find it and prevent it from happening again.”

“Ze journal, it is also in your room, sealed in a glass case.” Lumiere had also approached to touch her, as had Annette, and the other servants were crowding in close behind. “You freed them…ze same way you freed us.”

“No, not ze same way,” Annette contradicted. “She was not trapped here, save by a promise. But zere?” Belle nodded, dropping her eyes, and Annette hugged her – somewhat awkwardly because of her current girth, but tightly all the same. “Oh, ma belle. In ze wintertime! Why did you not wait? Zey would have understood…”

Belle sniffed. “I couldn’t…once I knew what was going on, I couldn’t make them wait even another hour, I just couldn’t.”

“Of course you couldn’t!” Mrs. Potts had pushed her way in; she made Belle look at her. “Because you were never a monster either, Your Majesty.” She accepted the armful of tearful queen that got her with a sniff of her own. “There there, it’s all right. We all understand,” she said. “We were none of us ourselves, none of us. Why, I’ve been just horrible to His Majesty since they got back.”

“John did look like death warmed over when we first got here,” Adam allowed with a shrug. “I expected you to be angry about that. Although you must know, we’d have stayed with King Triton – or even in our parents’ palace – until he was more fit to travel if the weather hadn’t forced us to keep moving. We left the coast not more than a day ahead of a storm so large we could still see it on the far horizon three days’ ride later.”

“What did happen to him? There’s not a mark on him except for the one on his chest.”

“That one came from King Sel, Lord of the Northern Waters,” Adam informed her. “John’s mother’s family had usurped his birthright from him, as it turns out; he was supposed to be head of his line, the head of the family. The Mark he bears now is the outward sign of his rank in the North, and the favor of King Sel. The Marking did take a good deal out of him that he didn’t really have to spare, but it was John’s choice to go through with it, for the good of Arendelle.”

“So what did the fairy do to him, then?”

To everyone’s surprise, Adam started to look rather uncomfortable. “She…she was trying to drive Princess Elsa to madness, so to that end she tried to kill John and I both.” The cook’s raised eyebrow – and Cogsworth’s – told him that wasn’t going to be enough of an explanation, and he sighed. “She used magic to throw us out into a vast snowfield in the middle of a northern storm. The cold overcame John while we were still trying to find a place to shelter from the wind and snow. It took him nearly three days just to wake up from that, and he was still sleeping more than he was awake when we were forced to flee the palace because the magic which had been holding it together was gone and the storms were tearing it apart around us.” He cleared his throat. “We went back to stay on King Triton’s part of the southern coast after that, where it was warmer, hoping to give John more time to recover…but the storms were already making their way south and we were warned that it would mean our lives if we were camped out on the beach when one of them arrived. So we started back to Valeureux with as much speed as we could manage,” here he gave Mrs. Potts a short bow, “because Elsa and I knew John would be better able to recover here at home, in your care, than he would anywhere else.”

The woman’s hand flew to her mouth; there were tears in her eyes. “I…Your Majesty!”

He smiled. “You’ve been like a mother to me most of my life, Agatha. Of course I’d trust you above all others with the man who’s become like a brother to me. You and the others, until very recently anyway, were the only real family I’d ever had. Part of the reason I hated myself so as a Beast…was because you’d all become afraid of me.”

That had her enveloping him in a hug, which he returned just as any boy would on being hugged by his mother. Belle was dashing tears from her eyes…but she was also thinking, quite hard in fact. Adam was hiding something, something he was afraid to have become known. Even if she hadn’t been able to feel it, it hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t said how he himself had avoided being overcome by the cold when John had been. And she was relatively certain that he’d have been quick to mention it if Elsa had used her powers to rescue them both, or if someone else had appeared to help them. Questioning John probably wouldn’t do any good, as he might not know what had happened…but Belle thought she should probably speak privately with Elsa at the first opportunity.

She approached her sister-in-law as soon as the garden tea party had broken up so that everyone might rest and change before dinner. Much to her surprise, though, Elsa seemed to know what she wanted even before Belle could ask it. They went into a little sitting room where they could be private, and then to Belle’s even greater surprise Elsa also brought in Cogsworth and her sister Anna. “This isn’t to become general knowledge, and I know Adam is afraid to tell anyone,” she began. “I didn’t see it happen the first time, of course, because I was in our parents’ palace and he was out in the snowfield with John, but I’ll tell you what King Triton told him: He said that love broke Adam’s curse…and love brought it back as a blessing.” That got a round of gasps, and Cogsworth sat down so hard the chair creaked. Belle had gone white, and Elsa took the other woman’s hands in hers. “He only changes if he wants to, or if something startles him into it; and he’s still Adam, all the way through, no matter what form he’s in. But Belle, if you still…” Belle shuddered, and Elsa immediately enfolded her in a comforting hug. “He wouldn’t, you know – before we came back, he said he had no desire to enjoy relations in that form. But can you accept him, knowing the Beast is a part of him? Can you accept knowing that he’ll protect his family and his kingdom with tooth and claw if his sword fails him?”

Cogsworth had regained control of himself. “He can…he can control it?”

Elsa nodded. “Highwaymen attacked us on the way back to Valeureux; he didn’t change then, or even think about it, he just drew his sword and told them to crawl back into whatever hole they’d crawled out of. The time he was startled into it was because he’d been dozing off in a chair by the fire and John screamed in his sleep. He thought the bad fairy had come back, or something worse.”

“She can’t come back, right?” Anna wanted to know. “You froze her…”

“And then Lord Sel buried the block of ice in a glacier,” Elsa confirmed. “He wasn’t pleased she’d interfered with his people, or with her trying to start off Ragnarok. He said the glacier won’t release her for a thousand years at least.”

“Good for us, not so good for whomever’s around a thousand years from now, I expect,” Cogsworth noted. He turned his attention to Belle. “Your Majesty?”

Belle swallowed; she knew she was still pale, she could feel it. But she could also feel Adam, who was worrying about something…and she thought she knew what it was. She needed to go to him, but first… “I’m glad he was able to save John,” she told Elsa, and meant it; she didn’t dare not, she knew, or even let there be some doubt that she did, lest she cause a rift not just in the newly-found family but also between the two newly-connected kingdoms. “And I understand why he’s afraid to tell anyone, he’d just gotten everybody to stop being afraid of him before…well, before everything happened.” She stood up. “Thank you for telling me, Elsa. I should go to him now.”

Elsa stood up with her, offering another hug before leaving with her sister, and Cogsworth bowed to Belle as she followed them. “Your Majesty…it truly is good to have you back.”

“Thank you, Sir Andrew,” was her response, and she found a smile for him. “It’s good to be back.”

 

Belle found herself taking the stairs at a measured pace; not, as some might have thought, out of reluctance to re-enter her rooms or Adam’s, but because the clean-swept stone and polished banisters seemed such a marvelous thing to her after long weeks of living in a decaying ruin followed by even more weeks of traveling. Even the lamps were clean, leaded glass gleaming like little panes of diamond as they illuminated the winding way up to the royal bedchambers. She did hesitate a moment at her own door, but only a moment and then she turned the knob and went in…to a completely different room than the one she’d been snatched out of, which was such a great relief that she had to grasp the doorframe to steady herself. It truly was all new. She didn’t stay to look, though, but instead crossed the room to open the door which led into Adam’s chambers.

Which had also been redecorated to match hers – or possibly vice-versa. She went in, closing the door behind her. “Oh my goodness, this is lovely.”

“It is quite nice, isn’t it?” Adam was standing in front of the fire, staring up at the portrait and looking as sad and worried as she already knew he felt. “I know she told you.”

Belle’s response was to walk up to him, and then very gently and tenderly wrap her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder. The portrait was an excellent likeness, so much so that she doubted any of the servants had noticed the very telling shape of Adam’s shadow on the painted wall in its background. The fairy had known, then, perhaps she’d known all along…but that was a thought for another time. “I already told you, Adam: He was a monster before he was a Beast. You never were, and you never could be.”

He essayed a very slight smile. “I told John one night by the fire that I couldn’t imagine what use there could possibly be in being a huge furry monster. And then that day in the snowfield when he just fell over at my feet, looking more dead than alive…all I could feel was rage, Belle. But it wasn’t horrible, it was…freeing, in a way. Because I suddenly knew what rage was for, and exactly what a Beast was good for.” A blush stained his cheeks. “When I got back to the palace and knocked open the doors and one of them flew right off its hinges…I was just ridiculously proud of myself for doing it.”

“I probably would have clapped if I’d been there,” she told him. “What did Elsa think of it?”

“She screamed in rage and sealed all three of them in a block of ice as thick as a stone dam. Of course, she did think John was dead at that point – he certainly looked it – so nobody could really blame her for that. And John and I both told her she’d done the right thing, if only to prevent them doing it again in some other kingdom the next time they got bored.”

Belle felt a stab of fresh horror – and not because he’d just admitted that his sister had, in fact, been provoked into killing their parents. “You think…”

“If you’d met them, you’d think so too. They were terrible people. Not wicked, not really, but just terribly selfish and short-sighted, and unbelievably frivolous to boot. They’d thought absolutely nothing of abandoning me or my sisters, or the two kingdoms for that matter. All they wanted was to stay young and be free from any responsibility at all, and that was what the fairy had given them. In exchange for my life, and my sisters’.” He shook his head. “My father looked barely older than I am now, and Mother looked to be about Elsa’s age. They…they _knew_ , Belle. They knew what the fairy was going to do. To me, to our kingdom, to the world even. They just didn’t care.”

“Could they have been enchanted?”

He shook his head. “You know our history, and now I know more than I might have wished of Arendelle’s. They were both horrible people even before the fairy got involved, even before they met each other, and they were so matter-of-fact about it that it gave me chills. John berated them for it, mainly our mother, and her complete lack of care for the harm that she’d done nearly reduced him to tears. She was responsible for his mother’s death as well,” he explained, going to sit on the padded bench at the end of the bed so he could remove his boots. “She was bored and forced his father to marry, and the girl she chose was sickly and considered too weak to bear a child…but she insisted the marriage bear fruit or John’s father, Sir Jonas, would have been out of favor and possibly out of a job. John’s mother died before his second birthday, and I can’t help but suspect that part of the marriage agreement had involved considerably more than just a dowry. King Sel told me John is the very image of the founder of the family line, and he knows the family has a portrait of the man so the resemblance alone should have tipped somebody off. Or the name should have, but interestingly his mother’s name appears on no records anywhere that John was ever able to find; even on the marriage record she’s only listed by an initial, K, and his father never spoke of her or kept any remembrances. But Belle, considering how political the court of Arendelle is from John’s accounts…a good many if not most of them had to have known anyway. It’s apparently an important, favored family, if King Sel’s anger at them over the situation was any indication, so it’s inconceivable to me that nobody knew.”

“So, a power play,” Belle agreed, joining him on the bench. “The queen offered for a daughter they couldn’t marry off, and sweetened the pot by agreeing to keep the connection a secret so they wouldn’t have to contend with an heir from her if one were to come into being. Is there anything we can do about them?”

Adam shook his head. “I asked King Sel if it was something we should try to rectify, and he said we were to stay out of it and he would handle the matter himself because it was his laws they broke. He was also quite approving of John, so I’m thinking that family may be getting a visitor sooner rather than later, if it hasn’t happened already.” He smiled. “Possibly a very naked visitor, as both of the sea kings we met tend to not notice they lack clothing when they choose to walk upon the land.” He raised an eyebrow when she started playing with the buttons on his shirt. “Belle?”

She slanted a coquettish look up at him. “Do you have a mark too?”

“A small one, not like John’s – I’m a descendant, but no longer in the line of succession for Arendelle’s throne.” He opened the shirt so she could see the palm-sized medallion-shaped Mark in the center of his breastbone. “Just getting this hurt like hell, I really don’t know how John took his without screaming – it covers half his chest.” She traced the Mark with a finger, making him shiver, and then her hands slid inside his shirt, pushing more buttons apart, and he couldn’t help but groan even as he caught her wrists to stop her. “Sweetheart, it…really isn’t nice to tease, especially after all this time.”

“Who said I was teasing?” She twitched out of his grip and pushed the shirt down off his shoulders, leaned in until their lips were a mere breath apart. “I missed you so much, Adam – once I’d come to my senses, I missed you every day. Please?”

He caressed her hair with a shaking hand. “I missed you too, Belle. I love you so much…”

If the king and queen didn’t make it down for supper that night, everyone just smiled and didn’t say anything about it. After all, they _had_ been apart for quite a long time.


	37. A Stormy Wedding Day

The day of the wedding dawned wet and stormy, with rain lashing down from dark clouds overhead in sheets rather than droplets of water. John would have been at work in his office if he’d been allowed to, but when he’d come down that morning after being awakened by thunder he’d found the office door locked and no one willing to give him the key. In consequence he’d been somewhat sulky at breakfast until Elsa had come down, at which point a kiss was all it had taken to restore most of his good humor. “They did that to me on the day of my wedding,” Charming commiserated with him. “No one would let me do _anything_. Just be glad Valeureux doesn’t have the custom we do, where you’re not allowed to see your bride at all on your wedding day.”

“Oh, supposedly we do,” Adam said, taking a drink of his tea. “I wasn’t sure at first, because there was a very good reason I didn’t get to see Belle before we were married – they were trying to finish our wedding clothes, we both spent most of the day being fitted. That’s not an issue today, though, and I thought the custom was silly, so when Mrs. Potts told me Elsa had refused to go along with it I told her what I thought and said we wouldn’t be doing it.” Another sip of tea. “You may notice I’m the only person at the table who has burnt toast this morning as well.”

“You can have mine,” John offered, and contrived to be highly offended when everyone sitting within reach of him stopped the plate of toast from being moved. “Stop it, I am not that skinny.”

“I’ll give you credit for actually thinking you’re telling the truth,” Adam told him. “You aren’t, though, and you ought to know it by this point. Now eat your breakfast and then we’ll go find something to do that won’t get us all yelled at. I was going to suggest going out in the garden before it started to rain.”

“It is coming down in buckets right now,” Charming agreed. “Do you often get sudden storms like this?”

“This one was something of a surprise,” Belle said, taking some of her own toast down to her husband. “I’d have sworn it was going to be clear today. But then, we can’t see what’s coming over the mountains until it gets here.”

“Very true,” Kristoff agreed. “This one doesn’t look like it’s going to be blowing itself out any time soon, either. Hopefully the road won’t wash out, or we’ll be out pulling wedding guests out of ditches to entertain ourselves.”

That made Adam snicker. “The villagers wouldn’t know what to think if we did, I’m sure. Hopefully we won’t get that much rain, though.”

 

Breakfast eventually ran its course, and for lack of anything better to do they all went to amuse themselves in the castle’s library as it was about the only large room on the ground floor not taken over by wedding preparations. Nobody really much wanted to while away the entire day reading – not even Belle, much to the wonder of her husband – but once they’d moved the heavy central table to one side the large open space proved to be ideal for playing ninepins. Cinderella settled into a comfortable chair and kept score, as she wasn’t able to bend far enough to throw the ball, and once they’d shown Kristoff and Anna how to play the party became quite lively and stayed that way until Lumiere brought in a light lunch and very pointedly put the table back in its place.

Everyone scattered back upstairs after lunch in order to prepare for the wedding party that evening. John was extremely relieved to finally be back in his room – he was that tired. His protests over random bouts of fussing about his health were in truth mostly for show, part of the plan he and Adam and Cogsworth had come up with to control the rumors both in Valeureux and beyond her borders as well. Because it would just not do to allow word to get around that the future king of Arendelle still wasn’t able to make it through each day without stopping for a nap. He was regaining his strength, just slowly; Mrs. Potts had assured him that he’d be back to normal by spring so long as he didn’t overtax himself, slept when he needed to, and didn’t forget to eat. Although John wasn’t sure when he’d ever have a chance to forget to eat, as everyone else in the castle was doing so very well at remembering it for him. His protests over that were mainly for show too, of course. It might still be a bit strange to him sometimes, but he truly did appreciate the fussing for what it was – proof that he was a much-loved member of the tight-knit family that inhabited the Castle of Valeureux.

He’d just sat down on his bed and was trying to decide if he wanted to take off his boots or just sleep with them on when there was a businesslike knock at his door. John frowned. The servants all knew not to wait for him to call out or come to the door, they would only knock softly to warn him before coming in. So, one of the guests? He hadn’t thought any of them knew where his room was, and no one in the castle would have told them even if they’d asked. Something felt…wrong. “One moment!” he called out, and forced himself to stand back up, straightening his clothing, his frown deepening when he felt a growing warmth in the area of his chest followed by a sensation like a tiny bolt of lightning running over the lines of his Mark. Lord Sel had told him before they’d left the beach that the Mark would warn him of danger or disloyalty…but he’d also done something to dampen that reaction until John had fully regained his strength, telling him that until that time he should rely on Adam and Elsa. And John had agreed that he would do so, as when the Lord of the Northern Seas gives you instructions you could be certain there was good reason to follow them.

Adam and Elsa weren’t here now, though. So he went to the door and opened it, finding a little maid on the other side who he was sure he’d never seen before – and he had seen them all, regularly, because he was the one who paid them. This one was quite young, with pale blue eyes and dark hair just peeking out from beneath her ruffled cap, and she was carrying a small silver tray with a steaming goblet on it. “Compliments of Her Ladyship, my lord,” the girl said, holding out the tray. “She said to drink it all while it’s still hot, as it would help you rest.”

“Of course,” John told her, taking the goblet and ignoring the much stronger bolt of pain from the Mark when his fingers touched the stem. “Please convey my thanks to Her Ladyship for thinking of me, and tell her I shall thank her in person after I’ve had my nap.”

She bobbed a little curtsey, then turned and went back down the hall, and John closed the door. He placed the goblet very carefully on his dressing table, not wanting to spill any of its contents and risk getting the liquid on his skin. It smelled strongly of apples and spice, but there was a cloying note to that scent which was making his eyes feel heavy…he moved away quickly, going to the window and throwing it open, letting the cool, damp air rush in along with a scatter of raindrops and clear some of the spinning which had started in his head. And as he turned back, in the steam rising from the goblet he could have sworn he saw…

Pounding footsteps in the hall betokened his door being thrown open. Adam was there, looking rather wild-eyed. “John?! What…”

“Stay back from that,” John warned him, indicating the goblet. “A girl dressed as one of the maids brought it, but she wasn’t anyone I’d ever seen before – she said ‘Her Ladyship’ sent it, and it would help me rest. Considering that just standing over it made my eyes feel heavy, I don’t think she was talking about having a nice nap. And when I opened the window, I could have sworn I saw the shape of a skull in the rising steam.”

“You did, because I’m seeing it now,” Adam said grimly. He moved into the room, moved John farther away from the dressing table. “My Mark…well, went off I guess you could say, it felt rather like lightning had struck me in the chest and I just knew you were in danger.”

“Mine went off too, when she knocked at the door,” John told him. “And then again stronger when I took the goblet from the tray. I felt I had to take it, though, as I wasn’t sure what might happen if I refused.”

“Good thinking.” Adam started to move closer to the goblet, then stopped. “Wait, is it…shivering?”

John adjusted his glasses, squinting. “Actually, I think it may be melting. I need something…”

“ _I_ need something,” Adam corrected. He snatched up the towel that was lying on the dressing table and used it to pick up the goblet, which felt far too pliable in his hand. John was already at the window, looking down. “Should we…”

“Nobody’s down there, and it’s just bushes on this side anyway.” They poured the contents out, aiming for the bushes, and then dropped the goblet down after…and were horrified when it dissolved into a puff of foul-looking green-tinted smoke in midair. “What in the world…” Adam pulled John back from the windowsill, noticing that the smaller man was shaking and so was he. “Magic,” he said. His head was spinning, and he slid down to the floor, as did John. Who was leaning against him rather heavily. “Unless I miss my guess…very very bad magic.”

He wasn’t sure how long it took before his head cleared, but Adam didn’t think it had been very long at all because some rain was coming in and he wasn’t all that wet. John was already stirring as well, and Adam hauled him up off the floor and made him sit on the side of the bed. “Well, if that was what happened just from breathing in the steam, I shudder to think what might have happened if you’d actually drank any of it.”

“I probably wouldn’t have woken up again,” John told him. “And as the goblet would have disappeared…no one would ever have known what happened.”

A chill ran up Adam’s spine. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Nobody here.” John shook his head, putting one hand to his temple in a way that Adam hated to see – his friend had done it for weeks following the resolution of their quest, trying to steady his spinning head when dizziness overtook him, and before that every time he’d run afoul of the curse. “But perhaps…someone who wasn’t too pleased about how things worked out. In that lonely northern cove, maybe?”

Adam blanched. “You don’t think…”

“I don’t want to. But no one else has that sort of magic.” John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going to take my nap – if the girl is still here somewhere, she’ll doubtless decide the plan worked.” He gave his friend a wan smile. “And it’s not like I don’t need the rest.”

“No, you definitely need it – in fact you look like you need it twice as much now.” Adam hesitated, though. “I need to go warn the servants, and Elsa…but I’m not sure it’s safe to leave you alone, John. She might not be fooled.”

“My lord…oh, Your Highness, I did not know you were here.” Lumiere was standing in the open door, looking more than a little alarmed. “I saw the door open and thought something might be wrong.”

“It very nearly was,” Adam told him grimly, straightening. “Thank goodness you’re here, I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Lumiere had gotten a good look at John by this point, and that look had him in the room in a flash. “What in ze world…!”

“Someone tried to kill me – or something very like it, anyway,” John told him. “We think it may have been a fairy. A girl dressed like one of the maids brought me a goblet and said ‘Her Ladyship’ had sent it to help me rest.” He couldn’t hold back the shudder. “Considering Adam and I both saw a skull in the steam, and the goblet dissolved into green smoke when we dumped it out the window…I don’t think that was a nap I was meant to wake up from.”

The taller man tipped his chin up, looking into his eyes with a frown. “You did not drink any of it? Or get it on your skin?”

“Neither one of us did,” Adam told him. “This is just from breathing in the steam as we disposed of it – we both ended up on the floor afterwards, I’m not sure for how long. I wonder…” He went back to the window, holding onto the frame tightly as he leaned out over the sill to look down. “Oh dear. Hopefully nobody was overly fond of that bush.”

Lumiere pushed in beside him, looking down, and then pulled his king back from the window and closed it up again. “Zis girl, what did she look like?” he asked John.

John shrugged. “Small, young. She had very light blue eyes and fair skin, and where I could see her hair under her cap it was dark. I’d never seen her before.”

“No, we have no one here who looks like that,” the butler confirmed. “I will warn everyone to be on their guard, Your Majesty,” he told Adam with a short bow. “Quietly, of course. Ze other guests?”

“I doubt one of them would touch Charming or Cinderella,” Adam said. “It was a fairy who set that match up, after all, and she’s already declared herself godmother to the twins they’re going to have. And Anna is with Elsa, I’m sure, so she’s safe.” He had a thought. “Get King Kristoff for me, please, and escort him here, to John’s room. He’s used to dealing with a different kind of magic, but perhaps he’d have some ideas about keeping these types of intruders out of the castle.”

“I will fetch him at once,” Lumiere said. “Sleep,” he told John. “You know you need to rest before ze wedding. I will bring up tea when it is time for you to get up – I will pour it with my own hands and bring it up myself.”

John smiled, and relaxed. “Thank you.”

The butler smiled back, then hurried out of the room. Adam pushed John over on the bed and pulled off one of his boots. “He’s right, you need every second of sleep you can get. I’m not sure you realize this, but the…wedding night festivities can be rather taxing for a man who’s not used to them.”

John kicked at him, which only resulted in the other boot being pulled off. He rolled over onto his back with a sigh. “Lumiere actually took it upon himself to make sure I knew…well, what I was doing,” he said, a faint flush rising up in his cheeks. “He said women don’t expect perfection, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have an obligation to try to deliver it.” Adam choked, and he laughed. “I appreciated the advice, believe me. I only had the very vaguest idea about how…that was supposed to be done, and it turned out there was a bit more to it than I’d thought.”

“He gave me the same talk before my wedding night,” Adam told him, settling into the room’s only chair and stretching. “Go on, go to sleep.”

He found the fact that John already had somewhat less than reassuring.

 

When John woke up sometime later, Kristoff had taken Adam’s place. The King of the Rock Trolls was reading a book, but he put it aside when John sat up. “Our brother-in-law is off checking the castle with the steward,” he said. “There’s no sign of the girl, but then, there wouldn’t be. Prince Charming says that in his experience – or rather, his wife’s – fairies like to create servants as-needed through transformation, so the ‘girl’ might have been a mouse or a bird or some other creature she found and changed to suit her purpose. And the bush you poured the contents of the goblet into is dying slowly, right down to the roots by the looks of it.”

John swung his feet off the side of the bed, putting a hand up to his temple when the movement made his head spin. “Dammit. So the plan was to make it look like I’d fallen prey to some sudden illness, which would have slowly killed me over probably a matter of days. Did you have any suggestions for Adam about keeping her out?”

The larger man nodded. “I had a summoning stone with me for emergencies, I called on the trolls. The two who came couldn’t tell for sure who it might have been, because there’s been so much fairy magic done here in the castle already, but they did seal the stones against any more of it being done – not just the castle, but the cliff walls that surround it. The rest of the valley, however…well, just be very careful whenever you leave to go down into the village.” He cleared his throat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “The trolls were also giggling about fairies not having much love for falling water, so this suddenly-appearing storm may have been a wedding gift from someone.”

“Or possibly a favor to someone else.” John nodded gingerly. “When we go back, I’ll need to make a formal request of you for the trolls to do the same to the castle there, Your Majesty.”

Somewhat to his surprise, the bigger man looked rather discomfited by that. “I’d planned to offer anyway, and I’d rather that you just called me Kristoff,” he said. “We are about to be related, after all. And I’m…I am truly sorry for misjudging you, Lord Kepperson.”

“It’s just John, please.” John waved the apology away. “You’d already apologized, Kristoff, it’s all right. And it’s not like I don’t know why you had suspicions about the situation.” He sighed. “I didn’t have any way to contact you, you know. And the rumors…well, I’d been hearing things that led me to believe you and Anna might have been taken in by some of the nastier rumors, so I didn’t dare come running to the Rock Kingdom that night and risk encountering another bonfire.”

Kristoff winced. “You wouldn’t have, but I don’t blame you for having suspicions either. I’d been keeping my distance from Arendelle, I admit it. I don’t usually understand all the politics, and when I do I’m disgusted. That’s not the way reasonable people go about things.”

“No, it’s not,” John agreed. “I grew up with it, with my father teaching me to recognize the games being played without playing them myself unless I had to, but it’s still disgusting to me too most of the time. Sir Andrew has promised he’ll spend the winter teaching Elsa and I about other countries’ political stratagems, it’s our hope we’ll learn some things that can help us set Arendelle back to rights. I already know what people will expect us to do, of course, but I really don’t want to start off our rule by ordering multiple executions.”

“I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t either.” Kristoff made a face. “Although at least Elsa has the means to do it quickly, unlike some others.”

“I wouldn’t allow anyone to ask her to do that,” John told him, shaking his head. “That’s what a hangman is for – or my own sword, if it comes to that.” He raised an eyebrow. “Although if that was a subtle way of trying to ask me who killed the king and queen…well, in all honesty, the person responsible for those deaths is me. I didn’t do it intentionally, but I did cause it to happen – they’re buried so deep in a glacier the sun won’t see their bones for a thousand years. So if you’re looking for a murderer…”

“I wasn’t. And I wouldn’t call you that even if you had done it on purpose,” Kristoff disclaimed. Especially as he knew just how easy it could be to die on a glacier – one wrong step could do it. “Adam said the queen was responsible for your mother’s death. I’d not have been able to hold back from avenging my mother, had that situation belonged to me.”

“Thank you for that,” John said. He moved to stand up, and had to catch onto the bedpost to help maintain his balance; the fact that Kristoff had moved very quickly to catch his arm, and that he did not seem at all surprised to have needed to do so, made John sigh again. “Thank you. He told you?”

“Yes, but he didn’t need to.” Kristoff shrugged. “Once I knew what had happened…well, a man doesn’t shake off nearly freezing to death in the space of a few days, and especially not if he has little chance to rest afterward. The fact that you made it back here still on your own two feet is a feat in itself, it’s the sort of thing they write poems about.”

“Not if I don’t tell them about it,” John said. “Have you seen my boots?”

Kristoff smirked. “I have, but I was told not to give them to you.” He made sure John was steady, then rang the bell. “My instructions were that you were to stay in here until you’d had some tea, and then you were going to be getting ready for the wedding. And as those instructions came from Adam _and_ Elsa…well, I’m obeying them. My kingdom is going to need heirs at some point.”

John chuckled. “I truly did tell her not to do that anymore. Those highwaymen who tried to accost us let out screams so loud and shrill you’d have thought they were being gutted, and after that they just fell on the ground and cried. Poor Elsa was horrified, and then Adam and I had to have a very embarrassing discussion with her about the…delicacy of the male anatomy. I’m afraid she may have utilized that information in the opposite way from what we’d intended, so for that I’m sorry.”

Now that he thought about it, Kristoff realized the man was entirely correct about that – because Elsa’s frost bolt had hit him just hard enough to make him scream, but not enough to actually damage him. “Don’t be,” he said. “I deserved it. I should have talked to you first, and to her, but I didn’t.” He couldn’t help but smirk himself. “And I now have proof of just how much control she’s gained over the power, don’t I?”

That made John laugh out loud, which had the effect of making him sit back down on the bed. “Sadly, yes.”

 

A few hours later, John was back downstairs and so was nearly everyone else, and except for the servants keeping rather more of an eye on him than they had been doing earlier that day it wasn’t readily apparent that anything untoward had happened. A hot bath had taken care of his lingering headache as well as Adam’s, and now he was mingling with the guests who’d come up from the village while waiting not at all impatiently for his bride to make her appearance.

Adam envied him. Unlike at his own wedding, when he’d been nervous and unsure, John seemed calmly certain of himself and his bearing was dignified and regal as befitted both the position he now held and the one he’d eventually go on to assume through his marriage to Elsa. Not that John was doing this on purpose; Adam knew he wasn’t. But John was accustomed to being the person who projected an air of calm competence to reassure the less-certain people around him, and being stuck in a room full of nervous, excited people with a great storm lashing at the walls of the castle to boot had caused his habitual behavior in such situations to kick in. The fact that it was making him seem impressively lordly was merely a side benefit.

Finally someone indicated that the bride was ready, and the guests settled into a more controlled disorder as Adam took his position on the dais, seating himself on the throne he really never had much opportunity to use – if he wanted to speak to someone from the village he usually just rode down and found them, and if they came to speak to him he just took them to the office or one of the studies. He was looking quite impressively kingly himself today in his very rich formal clothing, all crimson velvet and heavily embroidered ebon silk as well as his ruby-studded gold crown, and on her throne beside him Belle was dressed to match in a gown of crimson velvet embroidered with gold and embellished with black silk ribbon, and her gold crown held a single large ruby centered on its central point. There wasn’t going to be an officiant. They’d had a priest in Valeureux once, the very old man who had married Adam and Belle, but he had died not long after and no one had ever taken his place. And the kingdom’s laws did say that both the magistrate and the king had the authority to perform such ceremonies, so Adam had decided to do this one himself.

John had gone to the throne room’s doors and waited for the footmen to open them, looking equally as fine as his king in a suit of ivory silk trimmed with gold braid and crossed by a tasseled crimson sash on which was fastened a heavy gold pendant bearing the royal seal of Valeureux. And then the doors opened and he bowed low as Elsa swept in, and the assembled guests gasped as one. A veil of silver frost fell down over her unbound white-gold hair from a crown of faceted ice crystals, and a bodice of frost and snowflakes cascaded into a full skirt with a rippling hem and snowy train…which was being borne along behind her by pretty white snow-birds which were animate but thankfully not alive. She was every inch the Ice Queen of Arendelle, more elemental goddess than mortal woman, and when John took her hand and kissed the back of it before wordlessly offering to escort her to the foot of her brother’s throne, her smile was warm but her nod was cool and regal.

Adam watched them coming with a lump in his throat; the last time he’d seen his sister look like this she’d just imprisoned the fairy who had tormented them and he’d been a Beast carrying a near-dead John in his arms. Belle took his hand and squeezed reassuringly, and he squeezed back. “Princess Elsa of Arendelle, my sister, and Lord Kepperson, Comte de Valeureux, why have you come before me this day?”

Elsa’s chin lifted. “To claim the boon which was promised to me twice, Your Majesty, my brother – once on the finding of our parents, and once again at your coronation.”

“Yes.” Adam nodded. “You requested of me that you be allowed to marry your true love, the Comte de Valeureux, and my permission was seconded and confirmed by two powerful sea kings. My decision stands that he is the only man I know whom I would trust to take your hand…and to ascend the throne of Arendelle as king to your queen.” He turned his attention to John. “Lord Kepperson, are you in agreement with this arrangement?”

John bowed. “My king, I would give my life for your sister’s happiness, both willingly and gladly.”

“And the throne?”

“I have promised to stand by her side in all things, and sworn with her to return glory and honor to our homeland before the founder of our natal country: King Sel, Lord of the Northern Waters.”

Outside thunder cracked and a great shower of lighting flashed across the clouds, and it was all Adam could do not to smile; the trolls had been right, someone was very obviously doing King Sel a favor with the timing of this fairy-defying storm – he would further consider the warning implicit in this ‘gift’ after the festivities were over. He stood up and walked to the edge of the dais, and Cogsworth stepped forward bearing a cloth-of-gold pillow on which lay a cord formed from crimson and burgundy ribbons braided together with gold thread to symbolize the joining of Valeureux and Arendelle. “Very well, as all are still in agreement, my promise to my sister stands. Hold out your hands that I may join you as man and wife, lord and lady…and someday, king and queen of the kingdom whose throne I ceded to you, my sister: the Kingdom of Arendelle.”

That wrung another gasp from the guests. John and Elsa held out their still-clasped hands, but when Adam lifted the cord from the pillow Elsa pulled their hands back; her brother was startled and it showed, and John paled slightly. “No,” she said in a clear voice. “Not yet.” She turned to John, letting go of his hand; another gasp went up. “You would marry the Ice Queen because this was the guise I chose to appear in this day, and you know it to be merely that, a guise, a pretty costume which embodies my acceptance of the deadly power which was forced upon me at my birth. But it is not the Ice Queen who loves you: it is Elsa of Arendelle.” The dress of snow and frost shivered into nothingness, the snow-birds became a flurry and disappeared, and the crown of ice shattered into a shower of melting stars against her hair…leaving her standing before him in a court dress of gold-embroidered ivory silk with an underskirt of burgundy velvet, a plain gold crown on her head…and around her throat, a white velvet ribbon from which depended a dainty silver snowflake centered on a polished white stone. “The woman you gave everything you’d ever known to save, the woman you never failed to protect even when it meant offering your life…the woman who would have given herself over to the power of Ragnarok had you not survived.” She dropped a deep, obeisant curtsey, looking up into his eyes. “Will you marry _me_ , my lord? Will you share my heart and my throne?”

There were tears in John’s eyes, and for a moment Adam was somewhat worried they might have another fainting incident; out of the corner of his eye he could see Cogsworth readying himself to move quickly and realized he wasn’t the only one. It didn’t happen, though. John held out his hands to his princess and lifted her to her feet, his eyes never leaving hers. “My lady, we share one heart. And as to the throne, I swore to return you to it and that promise shall be kept. I will not leave your side unless death takes me.”

The cord Adam was holding glowed faintly golden; he quickly wrapped it around their joined hands. “As the King of Valeureux, I pronounce you joined in marriage. And I present you to these witnesses as Lord Kepperson and Princess Elsa, Comte and Comtesse de Valeureux, with all good wishes for your future life and happiness together.”

The cheer that went up from the guests was nearly deafening, and Adam took the opportunity to swipe at one leaking eye when John leaned in to kiss his bride. The round frost pattern he could see beneath their feet feet sparkled briefly golden as well and then faded and vanished, and he just stopped himself from shivering. In spite of his sister’s words, it was apparent that the power of Ragnarok, the frozen magical heart of the Ice Queen, had accepted John’s promise as well.


	38. On the Road Again

The winter in Valeureux passed quickly, as there was much to be done before the coming of Spring both in the castle and in the valley below – spring was planting season, not to mention it was the time when John and Elsa were due to make their journey back to Arendelle.

Quite a few people were not too fond of that idea, one of them being Valeureux’s king. Adam knew it was necessary, though, and that it couldn’t be put off…because the heir to the throne of Arendelle needed to be born in Arendelle, because John had turned out to be the same sort of perfectionist Charming was. Not that Adam had been lax in that area himself, as Belle was also with child. And Kristoff had accused him – via messenger, anyway – of having a fertility curse on his castle, because by the time they’d gotten home from the wedding Anna had been pregnant as well and according to the Rock Trolls was also having twins. Adam had sent him back half a dozen bottles of an effervescent cider Anna had particularly liked and a promise to look into it – accompanied by a note from Belle which said he definitely would be looking into it or she was going to bar the door between their rooms.

Luckily for Adam, that turned out not to be necessary; Sir Martin had confirmed that the entire kingdom seemed to be having the same ‘problem’, if one could call it that. “The ewes were spitting out so many lambs no one knew what to think,” he told his king at one of their regular meetings. “Horses are foaling the same way, the same with the cows and goats, and the chickens are producing fountains of eggs. I think the valley is trying to catch up after so many years of being held back by the curse.”

“Which would mean it might taper back off in time,” John observed, nodding. “We’ll need to make a plan for that, and be certain our trade arrangements aren’t dependent on this bounty continuing at its current rate.”

“I have been talking to the other farmers about stockpiles, and what we might do to preserve more so that nothing goes to waste.” Sir Martin nodded back at John. “I’ve been requested to tell you that they want to send at least a wagon’s worth of the valley’s bounty along with you when you and Lady Elsa return home, Lord Kepperson. Word has gotten around that the Castle of Arendelle is in decidedly poor straits, and the more superstitious among us believe it’s because they lost what was left of their luck when the two of you were forced to leave. The farmers and sundry of Valeureux have told me to tell you that they don’t find it acceptable to send their comte and comtesse back home wanting for anything.”

That made John smile. “I appreciate that sentiment, but we’re going to be trading with you anyway for exactly that reason – and I was planning to get it started almost immediately, as people who are well-fed and warm are much less likely to cause problems.”

“I agree with both of you” Adam said, leaning back in his chair. “Tell them yes, Sir Martin, we’ll definitely want to send that wagon along. And happy subjects are in their homes at night being happy, not out running around with torches and pitchforks.” Sir Martin winced. “Stop that, I know it wasn’t any of you – most of the drunken louts who tried it that night fled the kingdom long ago. Which I know for a fact, because Lumiere kept track of them all and I think he may have threatened a few into leaving without telling me he’d done it.”

“He’s a good man,” Sir Martin agreed. “I’ve quite a few of those myself. One of whom has also asked if he could come with you, Lord Kepperson: Claude Royer. Claude says he thinks you might have need of a man who can take down a bear, and there aren’t quite enough bears around here to keep him busy.” He put down his mug of mulled wine; the chill of fading winter was still in the air. “He’s one I’d have said should be up for magistrate, honestly, but he’s rather more plain-spoken than some people like for that place, although he does know when to choose his words with more care if it’s necessary. I’d second his request, my lord. You’ll need a good man at your side; once King Adam returns home, it will just be you and the comtesse alone in what sounds to be a nest of spiders, and King Kristoff is too far away and doubtless has concerns of his own. We’d all feel better if you’d someone from here with you, someone we all know you can trust.”

“I like that idea too,” Adam seconded. “Claude impressed me as the sort of man who knows when not to bow his head, if you know what I mean. Do you think he’ll like living in the North, though?”

“That would be my one concern,” John admitted. “I’d be honored to have a man like him in my service, Sir Martin, but Arendelle is very different from Valeureux. She’s a relatively busy port town, and in the winter we can go for a week without ever seeing the sun – a cold day here would be considered positively springlike in Arendelle. So tell him to come talk to me about it, and if he still wants to come after that I’d be more than happy to have him.”

Claude did come and talk to John after that – the very next day, in fact – and the following week he moved up to the castle that he might learn his new master’s habits before they left. It was decided that he would be given the title of Huntsman for practicality’s sake, as this was a position nobody in Arendelle should be able to find a reason to protest him having. Especially seeing that, in light of the dire straits John expected to find Arendelle’s royal treasury in, Claude’s prowess with a gun might be the only thing keeping meat on the royal table for a time. And possibly keeping his employer safe as well, as no one was truly sure about what was going on in that kingdom or what they might expect to find when they got there. Gossip from the northern sea ports was slow to travel inland, and although Kristoff and Anna had sent letters when they could they didn’t have much to tell either. The councilors were apparently still maintaining their fiction that the princess had gone into seclusion, but other than that no news was coming out of the castle. Something had apparently been going on in the town, but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with either the castle or the princess and nobody seemed to want to talk about it. This mystery worried Adam far more than it did John, who said it was likely just some scandal or other brewing among the higher-ranked families. “Someone’s son or daughter probably ran off to be married,” John told Adam. “Or a new rivalry has started up, or someone has lost part of their fortune. Kristoff avoids those people, so even if he had heard what the problem was he might not recognize the significance of it – because it would doubtless only be significant to them, not to anyone with sense.”

Adam’s eyebrows went up. “Who in Arendelle has a fortune to lose?”

John snorted. “No one in the castle or most of the town, but there are some wealthy families who have personal fortunes – people who own shipping concerns, for example. We couldn’t raise the tax, remember? Some of them have been taking full advantage of that.”

“So there’s gold coming in, the kingdom at large just isn’t getting any of it.” Adam made a face. The day had finally come, and they had been tearfully seen off on their journey just over an hour before and had already easily settled back into the traveling habits they’d picked up while on their quest. John and Adam were riding side-by-side and Elsa was perched behind John with her arms around his waist – only this time the spare horse was being led by Claude, who was riding behind the royal party but in front of the wagon, which was being driven by two guards and had two more bringing up the rear behind it. “So I’m guessing your first move to increase the tax isn’t going to go over too well?”

“No, they won’t like it,” John confirmed. “But I’ve no intention of raising it all at once, either, because that would be too big a burden on the smaller concerns and might have a negative impact on trade. We’ll wait to get the tax all the way up to where it should be until a few new trade agreements have been reached and more gold and goods start flowing in and out, then they’ll take to it better.”

Elsa rested her cheek on his shoulder to look at her brother. “You’re afraid they’ll try to kill us over the tax? They won’t – the people who will be the most angry won’t do anything except complain.”

“What about the councilors?”

“They’ll be put in their places, or exiled, long before that,” John assured him…just as he had multiple times before over the course of the winter. “They’re cowards, Adam. I don’t take that threat lightly, but I’m not inclined to worry overmuch about it either. Seriously, if I pointed this sword I’m wearing at Councilor Fritjof he’d wet himself on the spot.”

That made Adam and Elsa both snicker, and Claude and the guards as well.

 

The inn was bustlingly busy when they arrived after several uneventful days of travel, and Kristoff was already there waiting for them. He broke off his conversation with the stableboy to wave at them, and they noticed that Otto was outside and tied to a post rather than being put up inside the stable. “There’s not a room to be had here, they’re full up with travelers already,” he said, not seeming much bothered by the idea. “The stable is full too. But the innkeeper said we’re welcome to camp in the meadow, and have the use of the inn’s well as we need it.”

Adam shrugged. “That’s no great hardship, it’s not like most of us aren’t used to it.” The ones who weren’t used to it were the guards, of course, but they were coming right along – none of them wanted to be shown up by their king, the comte and the pregnant comtesse any more than they already had been on this trip. “We should go get started settling in, then, so we can make a leisurely night of it. Have you already picked out a likely spot?”

“I was waiting for you.” Kristoff shrugged. “If more people had started to show up I would have. Maybe over there, near that tree? It’s upwind from the inn.”

“Good choice,” John agreed. “Where is the well?”

“It’s in the back, my lord,” the stableboy answered at once. “Behind the inn. But if I might say so, it’s a good idea to be farther rather than nearer this night – the crowd inside is already noisy, and we’ll have more in by nightfall. You’re lucky you were early.”

“And it sounds like we were lucky to be too late for rooms as well,” Adam agreed. “The noise inside is bound to be worse than the noise outside. There’s a good deal more traffic on this road than there used to be, I take it?”

“It comes and goes with the seasons,” the boy told him. “In winter we see very few travelers, of course.”

“Of course,” Kristoff echoed. “All right then, everyone, let’s go make camp – I’m looking forward to stretching my legs out as well.”

The stableboy stayed where he was as they walked their horses off with the wagon following, frowning as though he was trying to remember something, and John gave Kristoff a sidelong smirk once they were out of earshot. “Do you think he’ll remember who you are, since you obviously didn’t re-introduce yourself?”

Kristoff shrugged, not denying it. “They’re full up, and it’s already too noisy. I thought we’d all be more comfortable in the meadow, honestly.”

“I agree,” Adam said. “I think we’ll also be safer out here if those outlaws John encountered the last time are still about, and we’ll be able to leave whenever we like with a minimum of fuss.”

“He means he doesn’t like to check the horses into a stable, on the off chance we might want to leave in a hurry,” John corrected. “And we’ll be more easily able to defend ourselves if those outlaws are in the area again.”

Elsa smirked. “I can stop them.”

“Of course you can,” Adam told her. “But if we let you do it they’ll scream like pigs being slaughtered and we’ll have them rolling all over the ground, just like last time.”

“Those ruffians deserve it,” John countered, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. “Just use your best judgment, sweetheart.”

Kristoff was nodding. “Yes, they likely do deserve it,” he agreed, somewhat to Adam’s surprise. “I saw them, when Anna and I and our guide were here,” he explained. “They stayed off of us because they didn’t want to deal with a man my size. I had wondered at the time how you’d gotten around them, John.”

It was John’s turn to shrug. “The innkeeper saw the problem as soon as we walked in, he gave us the room next to his own and brought our supper up himself – and he woke us the next morning by knocking on the wall, so that we could have breakfast and leave before any of the other guests and sundry were stirring.”

“And then John held off the one in the stable with his letter opener until the stableboy could hit him over the head,” Elsa added, smiling sweetly at Kristoff’s openmouthed astonishment – and squeezing her now-blushing husband’s hand. “Do you think the outlaws will remember us?”

“If they try to come upon us tonight, I have no doubt they’ll remember us forever,” Adam told her. He was snickering himself, and he patted John’s shoulder. “No, you’re never going to live it down.”

Kristoff had recovered himself. “Yet another story someone needs to make a song about for singing around the winter fire,” he said, shaking his head. They had reached the tree, which was a fine large old walnut with spreading branches, and the ground beneath it was smooth and dry enough. John and Adam arranged a spot for the fire and got a nice one going while the guards took care of the horses and Kristoff and Claude started setting up tents and shaking out bedrolls – the tents were a luxury they’d only been able to afford thanks to the wagon. In very little time they had their camp set – and a nice, comfortable camp it was, thanks to all the experience setting one up that Adam, John and Elsa had – and then they were all taking their ease while a pot of stew cooked on the fire.

More guests did come to the inn and from there to the meadow as the shadows of evening grew longer, but these mostly stayed closer to the inn. One of the guards brought back a bucket of water from the inn’s well to water the horses, but although he offered to go get more he said he wouldn’t go alone again. “There are some rough types in, Your Majesty,” he told Adam. “We should set a watch tonight.”

“We can keep a watch until we’re all ready to sleep,” his king agreed. “But after that the comtesse will set her traps and we’ll all bed down. We’re about to enter the mountains, I don’t want anyone’s head muddled from lack of sleep.”

The guard looked like he wanted to argue about that, and Claude shook his head. “If there were room for the one who stood watch to sleep in the wagon, I’d be agreeing with you,” he told the guard. “But there’s not. Her Ladyship has kept our camp safe all this time, hasn’t she?”

“Yes, of course.” The guard bowed to Elsa. “I wasn’t meaning to doubt you, my lady. I’m simply worried, because these men I saw looked very dangerous.”

“They’ll be mostly dangerous to the innkeeper’s ale supply until well into the night,” John assured him. “That’s how he said they were when we were here before. And even if a drunken man does exert himself to stumble out this far, he’ll likely be too far gone to avoid a trap. And then…”

“He’ll be squealing and crying on the ground,” Elsa said cheerily, which made everyone laugh and John hug her. She hugged him back. “It will be fine, don’t worry.”

It was. They had a leisurely supper and then Elsa laid little traps all around the front of their camp and even made a guard-shaped statue out of ice before shooing everyone off to bed. Claude stayed awake for a time, though, speaking quietly with the still-worried guard about what he’d seen – being attacked this night wasn’t a worry for him, but he had some concerns that their party might be followed into the mountains. It was nearing moonrise and the banked fire was only infrequently crackling when a shape began lurching across the meadow in their general direction. It was possible whoever it happened to be was just homing in on the fire, but Claude took in the size of the man and doubted it. The meadow grass wasn’t yet high enough to hide a crawling man, but the darkness could easily hide others circling around to converge on their camp from the sides. He smiled, motioning the guard to be silent, and settled in to wait for the evening’s entertainment to begin.

Sure enough, the drunken man approached the icy sentry and tried to engage it in conversation…and then lashed out with a knife, which from the sound of it may have snapped on impact with the rock-hard ice. He cried out in pain and anger, hopping around holding his injured hand. And then being a determined sort of fellow, he headed for the fire. The near-invisible wall of clear ice which served to discourage animals from approaching stopped him, and he stumbled back in comedic confusion. He put out a hand – the injured one – and yelped when the ice burned him. He tried this experiment twice more and then retreated and tried approaching the fire from a different angle. Ice broke beneath his boots and made him fall forward, and after trying to right himself, failing, and deciding that crawling might serve him better, he’d made enough noise that just about everyone had come out of their tents to see what was going on and Claude stood up and joined them. He cleared his throat rather loudly, and the man froze and then slowly looked up, blinking like a surprised owl. “I thought…isn’t this my camp?”

“You’re staying in the inn,” John told him, sounding like he was merely reminding the man of something he’d forgotten. “You should get back there, don’t you think?”

The man blinked at him, then lumbered somewhat unsteadily to his feet. He reached for his belt, frowned when he found nothing there. “I had…”

“It broke, remember?” Claude pointed out. “When you tried to stab our camp guard, your knife broke on his armor.”

That got some rapid blinking. “It broke!” He held up his hand, and looked alarmed when he saw the blood. “He hurt me!”

“You tried to stab him,” Claude reminded. “Go back to the inn, fellow, you’re done here for the night.”

Another frown, deeper this time. “But there was things, things I _wanted_ …”

“You’ll not get them here.” Adam rolled his eyes. “Go back and sleep it off, before something worse happens to you.”

The man goggled at him. “Worse? Whaddya mean, worse?”

“There are spiders, in the grass,” John told him. “White ones. Didn’t you just run into their web back there? I heard it crackling under your feet. Why, they’re probably coming for you as you stand here. I would run.”

That made the man laugh. “I ain’t…’fraid of no spiders,” he boasted, puffing out his chest and nearly unbalancing himself in the process. “Little bitty things…”

Which was when a white form rose out of the grass, spindly legs stretching out impossibly far, and began to stalk towards him. Its eyes were glowing in the moonlight, all five of them, and the clawlike mandibles that were its mouth rasped and clicked against each other. The drunken man stood frozen for a fraction of an instant, then stumbled back, fell, righted himself and ran screaming back toward the inn. John laughed until he cried, and the guard went to check the ice sentry for damage. “Broke his blade,” he confirmed, bringing the pieces back with him. “Of course, it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t oversharpened the old thing into near nothingness – this blade’s thin as an autumn leaf.”

“Thievery must not be paying too well around these parts,” Adam observed drily. “Elsa, your pet?”

She stuck her head out of the tent, pretending a too-innocent pout; said pet was currently dancing a little jig in the grass, which was a somewhat disturbing thing to see a giant ice spider do. “You don’t like him?”

“I like him just fine, but I don’t want the innkeeper to see him – better they all think the fellow’s out of his head drunk and seeing things that aren’t there.” The spider shrank down to a very manageable size and scuttled under the wagon, still dancing, and he laughed. “That will do, thank you. Think anyone will follow him out here?”

That had been addressed to Claude, who shrugged. “I doubt it – they’ll likely see his hand and think he ran into a sword. I’m going to turn in now, myself.”

“We all will,” Adam announced. “Elsa’s pet can keep watch, and alert us if anyone else comes. Just don’t let it attack them, Elsa.”

“It won’t.” She sounded sleepy, and John yawned and went back into their tent. “Good night.”

“Good night, my lady,” Claude responded when Adam yawned. “Thank you for the entertainment.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Adam scolded, heading back for his own tent. “John does enough of that as it is.”

Claude just smiled and went to the tent he was sharing with the guards. He just loved his new position.


	39. Confrontation

There were no more disturbances that night, and not long after sunrise they broke camp and went back to the inn to get a hot breakfast. Very few of the other guests were stirring yet, and the innkeeper served them matter-of-factly and with no sign of recognition that he was in the presence of royalty, which put Kristoff in a very good mood indeed. They were back on the road within an hour, and by noon they’d reached the foot of the mountains. The trail John and Elsa had used two years before was somewhat off the main road, and after Claude and Kristoff – who had used the main road on both of his trips across the mountains – had come back from taking a look they’d both been in agreement that the wagon would have to go by the main road. Adam agreed, but insisted that all four guards should go with it. “You’ll possibly encounter more people,” he told them. “I doubt we’re going to see anybody. And we won’t need the tents, there are courier huts along this route – we’ll probably be more comfortable than you will.”

“He says that because he’s never seen a courier hut,” John contradicted. “But we’ll be secure and warm, and we’ll have a place to put up the horses. Don’t rush,” he warned them. “We should arrive in Arendelle before you, and if you encounter anyone who wants to know your business, tell them you’re meeting a ship. No one will question that.”

Adam was somewhat surprised. “People cross these mountains to meet ships?”

John nodded. “Not so very many of them these days – although I expect that will change once we’ve got more overland trade going. But some do, because it’s a convenient place to meet a ship to pick up trade goods, or to get on one as a passenger.”

“It’s a safe route,” Kristoff assured the guards. He said nothing else about it until they were all well under way again, and then he raised an eyebrow at John. “I noticed you didn’t mention that couriers aren’t the only ones who use these trails through the mountains, or who stop at the courier huts.”

It was Elsa who answered him. “He told me about those other people, when we first came through the mountains,” she said. “They follow the couriers, trying to get whatever valuable thing they might be carrying. But they usually don’t bother trying to take things by force, do they, John?”

“No.” John shrugged. “As I told you, the couriers are young and poor, for the most part, and that makes them easier to bribe. This particular trail, though…isn’t used very much anymore.”

“No, Cogsworth told me it was one of the old routes most people have forgotten,” Adam agreed, and shrugged himself when his friend looked surprised by that. “He showed me how you came through the mountains and into Valeureux once, on a map he had in his office,” he explained. “He told me he wanted me to be impressed by what you’d done, and know I’d made a good call hiring you. He said men who just do what’s necessary regardless of whether it’s impossible or not don’t come along every day; apparently making it across these mountains in three days with one horse and no supplies to speak of is quite a feat.”

“I’d say so,” Kristoff put in. He was looking more than a little surprised himself. “It was still winter in Arendelle when you left.”

John shrugged again. “Not like the timing of that trip was my choice, you know.”

“No, of course not.” Kristoff let the matter drop, but he filed it away with all of the other surprising stories he kept hearing about his brother-in-law and the conversation meandered into other areas. It was nearly night when they reached the courier hut, and he chuckled over Adam’s surprise. “It’s sturdy and it’s warm, you can’t expect it to be pretty too,” he said. “Some of these places have been here for a hundred years, tucked into the side of the mountain like chicks sheltering under a hen’s feathers.”

“It’s built _into_ the mountain?” Adam went to see that for himself, Claude trailing along behind. Sure enough, the structure he’d thought was a very shallow thing was actually a largish room dug and chipped into the side of the mountain, the hearth at one side made from stacked flat stones. “Well this is cozier than I imagined it would be, from John’s description.”

“Not all of them are this large,” Claude told him, and nodded at the raised eyebrow. “We have a few like this in Valeureux, up above the valley where the game trails run,” he said, and then to Adam’s surprise made a face as though recalling something unpleasant. “Speaking of which, Your Majesty, there’s something I need to tell you about that. Near to three years ago, I was out hunting and I stopped in one of them…and found that someone had already gotten there before me, although not very recently.” He swallowed. “I buried what was left, and used only a stone as a marker. The old magistrate was still in power then, you see.”

Adam was more than shocked. “You mean he _survived_ that fall?”

“Survived and crawled away to find shelter,” Claude confirmed. “He was a strong man, Gaston, and stubborn. The fall wasn’t what killed him though, Your Majesty, and that’s why I’ve never said anything about it. What killed him was a knife through the heart.” He saw the look of horror on his former king’s face and shook his head. “I’m not sorry for him and, begging your pardon, King Adam, but you shouldn’t be either. Gaston was a bully and a braggart and despite his claims not everyone in the valley loved him. I can think of half a dozen men off the top of my head who might have done it – most of them fathers of daughters.”

“That…doesn’t surprise me.” Adam took a deep breath. “Belle was terrified of him, you know. And even though I was a Beast at the time, he was still nearly a match for me when we fought.”

Claude nodded. “I thought he might have been. I saw him wrestle a bear once for sport, so that was a fight he knew how to come out of.” He cleared his throat. “I just wanted you to know, Your Majesty, in case something ever came of it. You weren’t the one who killed him, some other hand did that.”

“I appreciate you telling me, Claude,” Adam assured him. “It…weighed on my mind, sometimes.”

“As it would on any good man’s,” Claude agreed, and slipped back out of the hut. It was a weight off his mind to have told his former king about Gaston’s fate, even though he hadn’t told him all of it and he never planned to tell all of it to anyone else, either. The owner of that blade had died not a month later from a sickness no doubt brought on by going unprepared into the mountains, but Claude was certain the man had died satisfied. The former Royal Historian of Valeureux had had a better reason than most to wish Gaston dead, after all.

 

They passed that night in relative comfort, although the next night not as much because that hut, the one John and Elsa had sheltered in the first morning after they’d left Arendelle, was quite a bit smaller and rougher. And the closer accommodations meant that Adam woke at once when John got up and went outside, and when the other man didn’t come back directly he followed and found the little clearing before the hut filled with fog spilled over from the rocks above and John quietly readying his horse in the dim light of false dawn – his own horse, which Claude had been leading while John and Elsa rode Sven. Adam pitched in to help him without a word, then readjusted his sword belt before he mounted. “There, now you won’t stab your horse when you dismount. We’ll follow…”

“Not too close behind me,” John warned him. “We don’t want this new rule built on fear of its queen, that would end us right back where we were the night she and I had to flee into the mountains. I’ll make sure any remaining nonsense is out of the way, then it will be safe for Elsa to come retake her throne.”

“Be careful,” Adam warned him in return, and then wrapped him in a strong hug, which was returned with equal feeling. “I don’t want to have to avenge you, John.”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you won’t, I promise.” John mounted his horse, cloak billowing in the cold air, and then rode off and disappeared into the fog almost immediately.

Adam went back inside, putting their kettle nearer the fire and settling himself near the hearth to wait for it to heat; Kristoff joined him a few moments later. “He’s off to the castle?”

“Yes. I know it has to be done this way, but I don’t have to like it. You _know_ they’ll try to kill him.”

“Of course they will – they’re idiots. But he’ll be…”

Adam clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t even say it.”

 

John rode into the castle’s courtyard with the rising sun, projecting as much lordly bearing as he could muster as he dismounted and handed his reins over to the sleepy-eyed stableboy who came stumbling out. He didn’t wait for anyone else to appear, just went straight to the doors and walked in. He knew the steward would be up, and sure enough the man came out and did a very gratifying double-take upon seeing him. “What… _John_?!”

John bowed. “Lord Kepperson, Comte de Valeureux, now. And married to our princess.” The older man’s eyes went wide. “Yes, that’s why I’m here – not like I’d have let her come back, even with me, until I was sure we weren’t going to have another bonfire in the courtyard.”

The Royal Steward winced. “I…didn’t find out about that until the next morning. You went to Valeureux, the king’s old home?”

“Without knowing it was, yes. The curse put on the place had taken the name from everyone’s memory – drove their Royal Historian insane, in fact, it was quite a terrible thing. But we did manage to find out that the King of Valeureux is brother to our two princesses, and that the bad fairy who cursed him had been working with their parents to try to bring about Ragnarok.”

“No, not…”

“The bad fairy stuffed the power to start it into Princess Elsa when she was born,” John told him. “The king and queen were part of that plan, Stefan. They abandoned two kingdoms and three children…well, to stay young and spend all their time amusing themselves, apparently. Even the fairy who’d been using them had nothing good to say about them. They were monsters.”

“That’s treason!”

“No, it’s the truth.” He could hear a faint ringing in his ears, like tiny, out of tune bells, and he sighed, shaking his head. “Please send someone to get the councilors up for me, Royal Steward? It’s them I need to bring this news to.” The older man hesitated. “Yes, I know they’ll try to kill me. And if I might get a cup of tea while I wait for them to wake up and dress themselves, that would be lovely – it was a long, cold ride to get here.”

The old man just stared at him for a moment and then made to leave the hall, turning back just enough to toss over his shoulder, “You shouldn’t have come back, John.”

John waited. Sure enough, a few moments later two guards came out and stood on either side of the doors; they were both carrying spears. He nodded to them. “I’m here to speak with the councilors, gentlemen. Are you escorting me to them, or am I having my tea with you while we wait?”

One of them sneered at him, but they gave no other response. John continued to wait. He really had wanted the tea – living in a warmer climate for two years, not to mention nearly freezing to death that one time, had significantly lessened his tolerance for the cold – but he was at least somewhat sure now that if they did give him anything it was going to be poisoned. Which saddened him more than he’d thought it would. He and the Royal Steward hadn’t ever been friends _per se_ , but they’d worked quite closely together for years and John had respected the man a great deal. He was extremely glad he’d thought to come before Elsa, though; doubtless if he hadn’t, the servants would already have been building a new bonfire in the courtyard.

 

It was nearly an hour before more guards appeared to escort him into the councilors’ audience chamber, and the first words out of John’s mouth were, “Well it certainly took you long enough.” He bowed, but it was perfunctory. “We’re definitely falling down when it comes to how we treat guests, gentlemen; that will have to change.”

“I think we’ve treated you with extreme civility, considering you’re a traitor to the kingdom,” the councilor on the right-hand side countered smoothly. “Mr. Kepperson, we really are astounded that you came back.”

“That would be Lord Kepperson, Comte de Valeureux, to you,” John returned politely. “Good kings are grateful when you serve them well; bad kings and queens steal the royal pension funds and go off on a vacation they never intend to come back from.”

“How dare you!” the councilor on the left thundered. “Speaking against the king and queen…”

“Who didn’t deserve their crowns, after abandoning three children and two kingdoms,” John snapped back. “Not to mention having been in league with the bad fairy who cursed two of those children and one of the kingdoms.” He arched an eyebrow. “Really, gentlemen, I know you’ve ‘remembered’ Valeureux – the birthplace of our former king. I’ve been in the service of his eldest son for the past two years, and Princess Elsa has been under his protection all that time as well.”

“Oh, but you kidnapped the princess,” the Chief Councilor said. He was an oily man, very sly, and John remembered that the Lord High Chancellor had never had much use for him. “Not like she was supposed to leave the kingdom, most especially not in the middle of the night without telling anyone.”

John smiled. “Oh no, of course she wasn’t supposed to leave that night, Chief Councilor. After all, you’d arranged that very special bonfire for her in the courtyard, hadn’t you? The one they tested on her little friend Olaf. She was actually quite upset when she found out she’d missed that.”

“Oh, you mean the way she was ‘upset’ at her coronation ceremony?” He smirked. “I’m surprised Valeureux is still standing.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? Arendelle still is,” John shot back sweetly. “And that after you tried to get the princess to marry the man who’d already tried to kill both she and her sister to take over the kingdom? Yes, that was such a lovely choice you made, I don’t know why she rejected him, I really don’t.” He cocked his head. “Of course, you were most likely expecting that she’d kill him on their wedding night and cause an international incident, which would have freed you to execute her and hand the over the kingdom to whoever’s been paying you all this time.”

“Why you…!”

“I honestly don’t know how you dare sit there in those robes, in that chair in this room, pretending to pass judgment on anything or anyone,” John cut him off. “You’re so corrupt you stink of it. And don’t think I didn’t notice whose window had a light in it that night. Of course, you wouldn’t have dirtied your hands by being present at the murders you’d incited…but I think you did want to watch.”

The man went red, shot to his feet. “I declare you guilty of high treason!” he yelled. “We won’t listen to another word from you. Guard!”

One of the guards stepped forward, drawing a long knife. John rolled his eyes. “Really, you’re going to kill me right here, in this room?”

“The people believe what we tell them,” the Chief Councilor hissed. “And we’ll tell them you tried to kill me. Guard, execute this traitor at once!”

Little bells rang, in tune this time, and John locked eyes with the guard; the man wavered, seeming unsure, so he raised a hand to the neck of his shirt and pulled on it just enough to open several buttons so that the top part of the Mark could be seen. The guard turned dead white and dropped back a step, shaking. “My lord, forgive me, I…didn’t know.”

John nodded. “I realize that. And now?”

“I…await your orders, my lord.”

“Thank you. Stand beside me, please. You can put the knife away, we won’t need it.”

The guard at once took up a position just behind John’s shoulder, sheathing his knife as he did so and shaking his head at his fellow guard. That man’s eyes widened when he approached and saw the Mark, and he at once bowed and then hurried to take up a position opposite his fellow. John looked at the one councilor his mentor had always spoken more highly of, ignoring the ranting of the others; this one was equally as corrupt as they were…but he could hear the bells again, albeit very faintly and ever so slightly off-key. The councilor apparently could hear something as well, because he shook his head several times like he was attempting to dislodge a thing that had gotten stuck in it. He was muttering to himself. “No, it can’t be, it absolutely can’t be…”

“Quite obviously it can,” John told him. “And you know as well as I do that our lord’s laws are quite clear on this subject, Councilor Erling.”

“How would _you_ know that?!” The desperate frustration in the older man’s voice shocked the other two into silence. “You were never to know anything, anything at all!”

“I didn’t,” John admitted. “And Lord Sel was much less than pleased about that – and about my mother’s family usurping control of the bloodline, of course. Apparently he does not much like it when people break his laws, he said he was going to deal with them himself and ordered King Adam and the princess and I to leave it alone. I would like to know what happened to them, though.”

Erling shook his head again. “They went to visit…your aunt, in the Danes. All except the youngest daughter, she took up with one of the house guards so they married her off to him and left her behind to have charge of the house. Or so everyone was led to believe, anyway. They aren’t coming back?”

“How would I know? I’ve been living in Valeureux for the better part of two years, I only arrived back in our country last night. I’d think it would be in their best interest not to come back, though, as if they did I’d have to banish them and I’m sure they know it.”

“Foreign rank doesn’t give a bookkeeper the power to banish anyone…” He trailed off beneath the look John was giving him, going from white to red to white again. “No!” At the younger man’s nod he shot to his feet. “Ridiculous sea magic superstitions be damned, I’ll kill you with my own hands before I take a knee to you!”

And then he screamed and dropped to the floor, falling off the dais the councilors’ chairs were placed upon, clawing at the front of his fine robes. Velvet robes, John noted absently, making a mental note to check to see how many washerwomen the castle now had and how they were being paid – or if they were being paid at all. The Chief Councilor was staring with wide eyes. “What sorcery is this? You don’t have magic!”

“No, I don’t – I didn’t do that, my assumption would be that Lord Sel did.” He gave the man a wintry little smile. “We met him in the course of returning from King Adam and Princess Elsa’s quest to find their parents, you see. He marked me as head of my line directly after he and another sea king of our acquaintance had finished declaring Adam to be the rightful king of Valeureux. He also gave his tacit approval not only for my increase in rank but also for my marriage to Princess Elsa – which she had requested of her brother, by the way, not me.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, where do we go from here?”

“To your death!” the Chief Councilor shrieked. He was shaking. “Traitors, all of you! I’ll see you all executed this very day. Guards! GUARDS!”

The doors to the chamber opened, but instead of more castle guards a well-dressed young man strode in with a small body of armed men behind him who it was obvious by their colors were in his own service. He swept John a deep, respectful bow. “Lord Kepperson, I am Per Nilsson – your cousin Annelie’s husband. Lord Sel told me you would be coming and said I was to assist you in any way I could. We’ve already secured the castle gates and the front doors, and separated out those few guards who aren’t loyal so they can’t cause trouble.” He caught sight of the councilor with the now bloody-fronted robes panting and whining on the floor and rolled his eyes. “Another one? We’ve had a rash of that over the past few months, we’re all going to have to have twelve children apiece to replace all the people we’re losing.”

“My uncle was the first?” John guessed, and sighed when Per nodded. “I’m not surprised, Lord Sel was considerably less than pleased with him. He told you all of it?”

“He told us enough that every man present was angry, and the one who was found to have known all along became the second to gain the mark of his disfavor. That man left the kingdom last month for parts unknown. A few of the others have stayed to face their shame.”

John came to an unpleasant realization about Stefan and the sour note the bells had been ringing for him. “Or to pretend they don’t carry it?”

Per nodded. “Some, yes. Lord Sel told us to leave them be, though, so we have. He said they’d eventually go mad if they didn’t either repent or leave, but that was their own business and not any of ours.”

“He said similar to us about not going after my uncle, yes – although he said nothing about the mess of corruption here in the castle, so I’m assuming that part of the problem is mine to deal with however I see fit.”

The Chief Councilor was turning a very unhealthy shade of purple. “How, by having your ‘wife’ murder us all?”

The man was perhaps expecting to incite some sort of violence with this statement, but although John favored him with a cold look he did not move from the spot where he stood. “I gave you a chance,” he said quietly. “I knew you weren’t of the old blood, Tarben – you’re a Dane, and you’ve most likely been working for their interests over ours for years. If you had accepted things, I’d have quietly exiled you and said no more about it, because what their parents did hurt our kingdom in ways only those of us who served in this castle knew. What in the world were you going to do without a ruler here, Tarben? Watch the kingdom die? Or hand it over to the Danes’ High King, who keeps stretching his hand out in our direction – or even worse, to that greedy bastard to the West who’d given Prince Hans his support?”

“You’re serving a witch who tried to destroy us!”

Erling had pushed himself up to lean against the dais, although he made no attempt to regain his feet. “She wasn’t, though,” he corrected hoarsely. “He explained it to us, Chief Councilor, after we first sent him to speak with her, after…she came back. After you sent him to her because you said we could easily enough do without him when she killed him too.” He grimaced. “The state of both books and treasury after two years of his absence have…definitely put paid to that lie.”

“She was a child.” John was still speaking to Tarben, although he had raised his voice that all present might hear him clearly. “I explained it to you, she was a child who needed to be taught, not a monster to be feared. She was genuinely distressed by the harm she’d caused, because it had simply never occurred to her that she was causing harm – she had no knowledge of anything, because no one had ever taught her. And if she couldn’t control her powers…well, that was because they weren’t hers, they aren’t anybody’s. The only reason Princess Elsa ever had such powers to begin with is because the Fairy Marguerite put them into her at her birth – with her parents’ consent, no less. The whole point to this gigantic, cruel, stupid plan was to bring about Ragnarok, because one bad fairy had decided she was tired of the world so why not end it.”

“But why?” the third councilor wanted to know. He was a shivering, sallow man, and his dark green robes made him look as yellow as a piece of old parchment . “Why would the king and queen…it doesn’t make sense!”

“It does, if you remember what they were like when they were here,” John told him. “They were frivolous and selfish – they were in Valeureux as well. The fairy made a bargain with them, all they had to do was follow her direction and she would give them what they wanted, which was a life of ease and pleasure free from both age and responsibility. We found the palace she made for them – a ‘gilded cage’ she called it – and all the fine and beautiful things placed there for their amusement. They are dead,” he informed the room at large. “Their own vices were their undoing, even their bad-fairy benefactor said they were horrible people who cared for no one and nothing but themselves. And then she tried to kill King Adam and I, at which point the princess turned her into a very surprised bad-fairy popsicle. So she won’t be doing anything like that again, in our lifetimes at least.”

Per’s eyes had widened. “What…you mean she isn’t dead?!”

John shrugged. “I’ve no idea how fairies work, so I’m not going to assume anything. She’s encased in a block of ice as wide as the deck of a small ship, but another of her kind we’d encountered earlier — a somewhat better one, thankfully — spoke as though she were merely napping, albeit for a thousand years or so. Who knows what her disposition will be when and if she wakes up. With that in mind, and a few other incidents which possibly had that same origin, I plan to leave a warning for my descendants, or whomever’s follow mine, to beware of fairies and to avoid having dealings with them if at all possible. Because the damage they cause…lingers.”

 

Far, far beneath the coldest waters of the northern ocean, in a palace formed from ice so old it almost knew the world’s beginning, King Sel, Lord of the Northern Waters, chuckled and shook his head. “Some men have sense,” he told the plump, scowling fairy in the blue dress who was standing before his throne, contained by the glowing sigil on the mirror-smooth rock floor as though by iron bars. “Wipe that scowl off your face, he credited you with being better than your murderous wand-sister and that’s all the credit you deserve from him.”

“He doesn’t know his place!”

“I think it’s more that you and your ilk have forgotten yours,” Sel corrected, a rumble as of grinding ice invading his deep voice, and she cringed. “Fairy, the lords of the sea are not amused by this latest string of intrigues. We may favor the children of our waters, but we do not play with them. You tug at the strings of their lives as though they were puppets who should dance for your amusement, and then you dress them like dolls and demand that they be grateful for your interference.” He leaned forward, the shifting blue and green light which filled his palace growing menacing shadows as he pointed his spear at her. “No more, Fairy. Your kind will cause no more shipwrecks, twist no more families into grief and ruin, cause no more heartaches for the children of men who fall under our aegis. By the power of our lord and master Poseidon, you are bound from sea and shore.”

A flash of light from the spear tip was echoed in the sigil which contained her, causing a net of power to rise around her, and she screeched in rage. “You can’t! He sleeps, they all sleep!”

He cocked his head. “You think a sleeping god does not _dream_ , Fairy?” She cringed again, and he lowered the spear. “It is done.  And lest you think you will continue as you have been in the lands which never touch the sea…know that we have sent out messengers to inform the lords of forest, mountain, plain and swamp of what your petty games nearly wrought.” He smiled at her when she squeaked a denial of that, his sharp teeth making the expression menacing, a threat. “Tell your wand-sisters the gods’ sleep is restless and their dreams this past turning have been filled with anger and dismay, for Ragnarok nearly came that day and with it the end of all of us together. Tell them of how you came here to set in motion a punishment targeting the queen of this land for besting the fairy who had tormented her, and how you brought punishment down on all your kind because of it. Tell them the truth, that you put yourself in my power by breaking your word, as you’d told the girl’s brother no blame would fall on them. You thought to skirt the edge of that promise by having your revenge fall on her husband in her stead, as you did on her brother’s wife, but he escaped your first attempt as she did not. You’ll get no other chance at him.” He waved the spear, and she vanished before she could say anything else. The seal beside him barked, and he stroked its head. “So what do you think, did she listen?”

The question hadn’t been addressed to the seal, but instead to the man who faded into view from the blue-green shadows. “I think she’ll choose not to remember the parts that displease her,” Ari told him with a shrug of his shoulders. “Mainly those parts which mark she and hers as being in the wrong. I am disturbed, though, my lord,” he said, frowning. “Even I, a shade, flinch away from the very idea of Ragnarok. But this fairy did not.”

“So I noticed as well,” Sel agreed. He considered, then shook his head. “I’m sure they’ll try something else – the look on her face told me those plans may be already in motion – but I can’t interfere any more than I already have. We’ll just have to wait, and make plans of our own.” He raised a silvering dark eyebrow. “I’d ask if you wish to return to your rest, Ari, but I already know the answer. Will you remain as a shade among the living to keep watch for me in Arendelle, that my hand might not be seen there any more than necessary?”

Ari smiled and bowed. “Of course, my lord. It would be my pleasure.”


	40. Work To Be Done

By the time Adam, Kristoff and Claude arrived escorting Elsa, the Castle of Arendelle was wide awake and bustling, with people running to and fro. Someone almost immediately appeared to take charge of their horses, and then two guards opened the front doors and John came hurrying out to greet them. He swept Elsa a deep bow. “My lady, welcome home.”

Her response to that was to throw herself into his arms, and then to look him over most thoroughly to make sure he was all right – something Adam wasn’t going to admit he’d been doing since the moment John had come out. “So everything…went well?”

John snorted. “For me, yes. The Chief Councilor didn’t fare so well: someone clapped him in irons and dragged him off somewhere after he tried to come at me with a sword and found out why he wasn’t qualified to do that. I’ll have to remember to send Charming a present to thank him for teaching me to use his father’s wedding gift, the look on Tarben’s face when I disarmed him was priceless. Oh, and we’ve apparently been having a plague of spontaneous dishonor-markings throughout the population these past few months, my cousin’s husband says we’re losing so many he doesn’t know how we’re going to replace them all.”

Adam pressed a hand to the front of his shirt, over his own Mark. “So it goes both ways?”

“Apparently, yes.” He led them inside, where a man not much younger than they were was having a word with one of the guards in the hall; the man hurried over to them at John’s gesture. “Per, this is King Adam of Valeureux and King Kristoff from the Kingdom of the Rock Trolls – and of course my wife, Princess Elsa, Comtesse de Valeureux and King Adam’s sister. Everyone, this is Per Nilsson, my cousin Annalie’s husband. He showed up to aid me earlier, which was much appreciated.”

Per bowed deeply. “Your Majesties, Your Highness.” He saw that his former/future queen looked worried, almost fearful, and he offered her a smile and bowed again. “Princess, allow me to welcome you home on behalf of our people. There are many who will be glad you have returned.” He did his best to ignore the tears those words put in her eyes, although seeing them almost broke his heart. She was barely older than his wife! And rather obviously in the same state as well – no wonder they hadn’t waited to return until summer could make the journey easier.

John smiled, squeezing Elsa’s hand. “We’ve been trying to decide what to do about making the castle habitable – there aren’t that many maids, and the steward who was giving them their orders…is gone now. We’d just decided that it might be better to let Per send for his mother to ask for her input, and in the meantime we’ll all have to make ourselves comfortable in the councilors’ sitting room. It’s just off to one side of their audience chamber, and very richly fitted out – the councilors spared no expense seeing to their own considerable needs, I’m afraid.”

“Velvet robes?” Adam asked, and chuckled when he grimaced and nodded. “I can see why they wanted them, what with the chill these walls seem to be holding, but I agree with you that wool is a better choice.”

“It’s chill here in the hall because we’ve had people going in and out,” John said. “Come on, let’s all go have some tea in the sitting room where it’s warmer. Per…”

The young man shook his head. “I’m going to go fetch Mother, I don’t think delaying will do us any good. But I can already tell you, she’s going to scream when she sees the state of the royal wing.” He nodded to Elsa. “You may end up sleeping in one of our guest rooms until she’s seen it all cleaned and readied to her satisfaction, Your Highness – there’s no way she’ll agree to letting you so much as set foot in there the way it is now.”

Elsa laughed. “We’ve been camping to get here, so I probably wouldn’t have noticed,” she told him. “Please tell her I’d be grateful for her advice. My brother’s staff made sure I knew how to manage things, and even to do some of the work myself if need be, but I’m sure I’m going to need help getting everything under control again after it’s been so long neglected.”

Per was sure his mother was going to be very happy to hear that; there had been rumors that no one had ever taught the princess anything. “I’ll bring her to you, Your Highness,” he said. “She’ll be happy to come, believe me, even though she truly will scream with rage over the mess.” He nodded to John. “Probably best not to tell her where the door to the dungeons is located, in fact. She’ll go down and scream at him, too.”

“I’d let her if it would make her happy, but I’d hate for her to strain her throat,” John said. “Not to mention, I’m sure the dungeons I didn’t even realize we still had are probably more of a mess than the rest of the castle.”

“True.” Per bowed to everyone again. “Your Highness, Your Majesties, I’ll see you again later.”

He hurried out, gathering two of his guards as he went, and Kristoff cleared his throat. “I’m going to go check on Anna and speak to the trolls,” he said. “I don’t think we should delay setting the protections on the castle and grounds, and it would be better they did that while there weren’t many servants in residence.”

“I agree,” John told him. “You’ll be back for the coronation in two days’ time?”

Kristoff raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You really think you can have everything ready in two days?”

John shrugged. “Whether we do or not, we’re still having it – this country has been without rulers long enough, and we’re down to one and a half councilors now as well. A horse might stand still for a short time without someone’s hand on the reins, but after that it’s going to start wandering and eventually become lost.”

That made Kristoff smile, and he hugged his brother-in-law, and then his sister-in-law and Adam, and he shook Claude’s hand – he’d found he quite liked the plain-spoken huntsman over the past few days they’d traveled together. “In two days, then,” he said. “If something goes wrong, though…”

“We’ll all be riding for the Kingdom of the Rock Trolls,” Adam assured him. “Or at least sending a messenger. I don’t think there’s going to be much trouble right now, though – everyone’s going to be reeling once the news gets around.”

“Yes, but eventually they’ll stop reeling,” Kristoff warned. “And the gossiping citizens of Arendelle aren’t the trouble I was worrying about. Just be careful.”

“We will,” Elsa promised. “You be careful riding back – and say hello to Sven for me.”

He smiled again. “I will. I’ll even bring him to the coronation so you can see him – Anna likes to ride in the sledge when he pulls it.”

He took his leave of them as well, striding back out through the front doors which the guards hurriedly opened for him, and John ushered Adam, Elsa and Claude into the audience chamber and then into the smaller but even more richly appointed room to one side of it. There was a fine tiled stove there, rich hangings covering the stone walls and equally rich rugs covering the floor, as well as comfortable chairs and a couch adorned plentifully with tasseled and embroidered cushions. Two gleaming brass teakettles were sitting on the stove’s top, and John tested one of them before pouring everyone a cup and then pouring himself more in the cup he’d apparently already been using. Adam started a little after his first taste. It was good, oddly spicy but much, _much_ stronger than he was used to. “What kind of tea is this?”

John smiled. “Ship’s, because that’s where it comes from – it’s what the sailors drink, and because it’s cheap to obtain in quantity it’s what all the servants here drink as well. They keep a big jar of it in the pantry, and the cook throws in all of the little odds and ends of spice and dried peel, so its flavor is actually very particular to this castle’s kitchen. Want more water?”

“Please.” John added more to his cup from the other kettle, and Adam sipped again. “Better, thank you. It’s good, but it’s a lot stronger than what we drink at home.” He raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Is that why you usually don’t put anything in your tea?”

“No, I’m just not used to putting things in my tea – we usually didn’t have anything available to put in it,” John told him. “That’s why the cook throws in the spices, you know.”

“Makes sense.” Adam took another drink. “So the first order of business is to find rooms fit to sleep in?”

“I’ll take care of that,” Elsa said before John could say anything. “Our father’s chambers can’t be much more than just severely dusty, they’ve been sealed since he left. I’ll have those cleaned and aired first, and if need be Adam can sleep in our mother’s chambers. Have you been to your office yet?” she asked John.

He grimaced. “I’m afraid to go in there, honestly – I’m sure they’ve made ten different kinds of mess out of the books, Councilor Erling said as much. I did check Chief Councilor Tarben’s office, however, and found enough damning things just on his desk that I ordered the room sealed until Adam could help me go through it all more thoroughly. We’ll do that this afternoon, I think, just to make sure there aren’t any immediate surprises we need to be aware of. Councilor Erling is in his rooms, by the way, no doubt trying to decide if he’d rather go mad or apologize or just flee the country altogether. The Mark,” he explained. “It happened right in front of me. He was raging and said he’d kill me with his own hands before he took a knee to me, and then he screamed and fell on the ground when the Mark formed under his robes. He’s from one of the blooded families, you see, so he definitely knew better.”

Adam frowned. “He didn’t already have a Mark?”

“Most of them don’t, not anymore.” John shook his head. “Per said they wear it engraved on a pendant, and the pendant is passed down from father to son. He said my uncle’s was gold, but it went missing right about the time I was made head of the family line and apparently Karl just hadn’t thought much about it until the night Lord Sel showed up to visit him.” He took another drink of his tea, very obviously savoring the taste of it, and Adam hid a smile in his own cup. “Lord Sel Marked Per, though, the same way he did us, and then Per asked him to also Mark his captain of the guard, which he did. Even when it’s just the pendant, though, or just a member of the line, you can hear a ringing like little bells when you get near anyone from a blood-marked family – and if they’re disloyal, the bells will ring off-key.”

“Oh so that’s what that noise was. I heard it when you introduced us to Per. Your uncle’s name was Karl?”

John smirked. “Still is, unless his brother-in-law in the Danes has killed him already. Karl Lorensson is his name, and my mother’s was Katarina – hence the ‘K’ standing in for her name in all the records. They don’t have any portraits of her, apparently my grandfather on that side had them all destroyed, but Per did say he was going to bring me the portrait they have of the first head of my line, Ari Torson. He says Karl had the painting wrapped and hidden away in a cellar, he was so afraid someone was going to see it and realize I was the heir.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t destroy it.” Although perhaps the man had thought the heirloom would only need to be hidden temporarily, or he’d just forgotten about it. “I’m glad he didn’t, though, because I’m looking forward to seeing it. Lord Sel mentioned that you strongly resembled your ancestor.”

“Yes, Per says Ari and I look enough alike to be brothers,” John agreed. “He had blue eyes, though. I’ll like to see their house someday, he’s said to have built a good deal of it himself.”

“I doubt our ancestor,” Adam raised his cup in Elsa’s direction, “did the same for this castle. I know you’d both said it was large, and so had Anna, but this is even bigger than I’d imagined.”

“I’m sure it seems excessive, but there’s a good reason for that. I’ll show you,” John told him. He drained the rest of his tea and stood up, leaning over to kiss his wife’s cheek. “Don’t go anywhere without Claude, all right?”

She kissed him back. “I won’t. You be careful too.”

“As careful as I can, sweetheart. Claude, if a man who looks too yellow for his robes comes skulking around, that’s Councilor Fritjof and he’s three kinds of a whining idiot. You don’t have to do anything he says, especially not if he says he wants to speak to the princess alone – I don’t want either one of you to be alone with him for any reason, because I’m not sure how far he might go to support Tarben.”

“Oh, one of those.” Claude was nodding. “I’ll stay with her, my lord. Any other orders?”

John smiled, shaking his head. “No, just that – and it’s not so much violence I’m concerned about, it’s lies and rumors. We’ll be back in a little while.”

Adam had hastily swallowed more of his own tea, and he got up and followed John out into the audience chamber. He waited until they were well away from the sitting room’s closed door to ask the question that had been bothering him ever since they’d met John on the castle’s front steps. “You’re upset about something, what is it?”

John shook his head with a sigh. “The Royal Steward isn’t here anymore because he hung himself in the pantry before you arrived…but after I did. I’d known him all my life, Adam. We weren’t friends, but we’d worked together for so long and I thought there was a mutual respect between us – he’d even supported the Grand High Chancellor in appointing me to my father’s position! And then I find that he knew…well, everything, and said nothing to me, although he spoke of it to others and received Lord Sel’s mark of disfavor for it. Jor, the butler, was there and saw it happen.” He shook his head again. “I just don’t understand any of this, it makes no logical sense.” A throat clearing startled them both, and they turned to see a tall, white-haired old man with stooped shoulders standing there just inside the door. “Jor, did you need something?”

“Only to speak with you,” the old man said. “My Lord, these goings-on make no sense because they’re senseless, there’s no logic to them.” His hands were clasped in front of him, but still shaking. “I’ve worked here since the days following the plague, I saw the corruption take root and grow like a weed throughout this castle and the town. There was no stopping it, and few desired to as in those days the rewards for turning a blind eye were many. In later years, though, the wrongs done to so many were piled too high for me to stand. I tried to tell those I could, but they dismissed my words.” He grimaced. “Those who did have apparently paid for that.”

John moved closer to him. “Stefan called you a traitor, didn’t he?” The old man nodded, and John placed a hand on his shoulder. “I call you a friend, Jor – apparently the only one I had here, although I didn’t know it. And I know you’re of an age to retire…but I’d consider it a personal favor if you stayed on for a time to help us get things running the way they should be. Will you consider it? Someone has to take over Stefan’s duties, and right now you’re the only man I’d trust.”

Jor gasped, tears starting in his eyes. “But, my lord…I’m a drunkard.”

“You’re not drunk now,” John pointed out. “I’ll trust you to do the job unless you tell me you can’t, Jor.”

The effect those words had on the old man was astounding. He straightened, determination setting his jaw, and Adam saw what he must have been all those years ago – and what he could have been, had Arendelle not been overtaken by greed and corruption. He took a step back, and bowed. “Lord Kepperson, for you I’ll do it. Orders for the kitchen, or aught else?”

John smiled. “Probably a question you should ask the princess rather than me, as I know she wants to get things back in order sooner rather than later. I’ll speak with you this evening about the coronation ceremony we’re going to have to hold two days from now – I’ll want to make sure it’s nothing like the last one, and of necessity the guest list is going to be much smaller. And as for the kitchen…well, you know I’m not picky and King Adam isn’t either, but the princess has a somewhat delicate stomach just now, so probably best to keep our meals simple for the time being.” Jor’s eyes widened, and John blushed. “We _have_ been married since last autumn, Jor.”

That made the old man smile. “Of course, my lord. I’ll tell the cook, she’ll know just what to do for that.”

He took his leave, and John turned back to Adam with a sigh. “Well, that’s one thing taken care of, anyway.”

“And very well taken care of,” Adam told him, patting his shoulder. “Not to mention, you know the kitchen staff will see to spreading the good news.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.” John managed a smile. “And I’m counting on it. There’s no way we’ve routed all of the traitors, but they’ll have to stay any plans they may have once word gets around that an heir is already on the way – it wouldn’t go over well with our people if someone tried to kill the queen when she’s with child, no matter what their private opinion of their queen may be.”

Adam nodded. “That’s a good use of gossip, then. So, what were you going to show me?”

“The grounds, but I’ll do that on the way out and back,” John told him. “Are you up for a walk? I asked one of the guards earlier if any of the Northmen were in port, and they said there’s a ship docked right now – but she might not be for much longer. I need to go speak with her captain.”

“About attending the coronation?” Adam guessed, and he nodded. “Yes, that’s worth a walk. Guards?”

“No, that would show bad faith. And we shouldn’t need them, no one in the town is going to look twice at two well-dressed strangers heading to the docks – the advantage of Arendelle being a well-traveled port. A few days from now we wouldn’t be able to get away with it, but for today we’re safe.” They both checked their swords, though, before putting their cloaks back on and navigating their way through the castle by routes Adam had to assume were the ones John had used years ago when he wasn’t a noble who could simply stride to the front doors by the shortest and most visible route.

They had exited by a small side door into a huge, still-frozen garden when Adam had a thought. “What if Elsa want us for something?”

John smiled. “She knows we’re going. I’d already warned her that if any of the Northmen were about my window of opportunity for securing their support might be small and quick to close. And we shouldn’t be gone long at all, because we’re mainly just offering an invitation. Just trust me, you’ll see.”

“Of course I trust you – on everything except acknowledging the state of your own well-being, that is, you’re rather bad at that.”

That made John snort, but he didn’t try to claim otherwise. They went through the garden and found another small door set into the wall – a stone door which required a key, which John handily had attached to his belt. “Servants’ gate,” he explained. “It just wouldn’t do for the servants to use the main hall as a thoroughfare, or the main gate. My having a master key to these little doors was what allowed me to get Elsa out of the castle that night before the mob could catch up to us – their route was limited, mine wasn’t.”

“What if they’d changed the locks?”

“They can’t, at least not without taking that entire portion of the wall down – the wall is over a hundred years old, Adam, and the mechanisms of the locks were embedded in it while it was being built. They’re solid iron, bolted to posts which are sunk down into the ground nearly as deep as I am tall.” He smiled, although it was rather grim. “Generations ago some little Danish noble with aspirations too big for him thought he could sneak in and take over bloodlessly in the middle of the night, so he had his men row into port on a moonless night and then approach the walls with battering rams made from fire-hardened wood, thinking that surely they could pound in the doors without much trouble. When the guards told the king at that time what was happening, he went out himself in his sleeping clothes and sat on top of the wall to watch them until the sun was rising and they’d worn themselves out, and then he sent his guards out to apprehend them. According to the story he had them all stripped naked, herded back onto their ship and sent home with a message thanking their king for ‘an amusing evening’s diversion’.”

Adam laughed. “Remind me to take back a book of Arendelle’s history when I go home, it sounds like it would make for entertaining reading. So the castle is built to repel invaders?”

“And as shelter from storms similar in size to the one that chased us off the southern beaches,” John confirmed. “The entire population of Arendelle can shelter inside these walls if necessary – and they have on occasion, although not in my lifetime.”

They’d cautiously gone through the little stone door, which was then re-locked behind them, and Adam was surprised to see that they were actually standing on the outskirts of the town, which had apparently grown up nearly to its castle’s walls. John led him down an alley and then up a street which ran ruler-straight between rows of buildings, some of which were shops and others which looked to be homes but which had painted signs hanging above their doors proclaiming the owner’s business. The streets were cobblestone and luckily so, because it was shaping up to be a rather wet, foggy day and it looked like half the population of Arendelle was out gossiping. Just as John had told him, though, no one even gave them a second glance as they strolled quickly toward the docks like men with business on their minds. Which they were, of course – it was just royal business rather than a matter of trade.

The docks were somewhat fascinating to Adam, as he had never seen such a thing in his life. For one thing, they were huge. The sturdy-looking piers were supported by pillars which were so big around Adam had trouble imagining the size the living trees must have been. There were rough if equally sturdy buildings nearby, warehouses where goods were loaded or unloaded, and a few rougher-looking businesses near them which he supposed were for the convenience of seamen who might not wish to venture too far from their docked homes. Three ships were in the dock this day, and one of them was formed from dark wood and had a creature carved into her tall, gracefully curved bow which looked to be a stylized bear. That same creature, in slightly more proportional form, was represented on the red, green and gold flag flying over the deck, and sea-weathered ornaments painted on the ship’s sides looked to be in those same colors. John walked right out on the pier to where a sort of ramp was propped on it, offering a short bow to the seaman sitting beside it, carving something into the side of an oar. “We need to speak to your captain,” he said. “There was…something of a coup this morning at the castle, and I have news he may wish to bring to his ruler.”

“We had heard something was going on,” the man replied, and moved aside the bucket which had been sitting in front of the ramp, blocking it. “Go on up. Captain Dezhnev is on deck, last I heard him yelling at someone – he will be the one with the dog growling at you from beside his leg.” He saw the face Adam made at that and raised a graying black eyebrow. “You do not care for dogs?”

Adam shook his head. “They don’t care for me, I’m afraid – I’d like them just fine if they did. Hopefully this one is made of sterner stuff than the last one I encountered and won’t try to jump over the nearest wall to get away from me.”

“Hmm,” was the seaman’s response, and then to their surprise he put the oar he’d been carving into the bucket and tucked away his knife. “I will go up with you, then. This I want to see.”

He preceded them up the ramp and onto the deck, which was newly-scrubbed from the look of it and had one or two seamen hard at work doing other necessary things occupying various portions of its surface. A black-haired and black-bearded man of medium height but with broad shoulders came down from the wheel when he saw them, raising an eyebrow at the accompanying seaman. “Dimitry, why have you left the dock?”

Their seaman, Dimitry, nodded to him. “Something which needed to be seen with my own eyes, Captain. These men are from the castle. What we heard was correct, there was something going on this morning. They say they have news for the tsar.”

“He is not here,” the captain said. He looked the two newcomers up and down. “You look familiar to me,” he told John.

John nodded. “Two years ago, I was the Royal Bookkeeper of Arendelle, Captain Dezhnev; two days from now, I’ll be her king.”

Dezhnev snorted. “Quite a lot can happen in two days, but it is good someone is finally tired of seeing that throne empty. And this one?”

Adam offered him a short bow. “King Adam of Valeureux – Lord Kepperson is married to my sister, Princess Elsa of Arendelle.”

That caused some little surprise, and John shrugged. “It’s a long story,” he told the captain. “One I’d be happy to share with you, although not today. I came today to ask if you wished to attend the coronation on behalf of your ruler, as he isn’t here himself and there’s not enough time for him to get here – and for that matter, probably not enough gold left in the treasury to properly entertain him if he did come, as I returned this morning to find the councilors wearing velvet robes whose cost most likely could have fed the servants meat every day for a year.”

The captain took that in, nodding slowly. “You want our alliance.”

“Yes, I do,” John responded. “The Danes have learned to have little respect for Arendelle, and I am about to teach them the error of their ways – starting by sending Chief Councilor Tarben back to them in chains, as he has been working for their interests over ours for years. I do not ask that you or your king take part in this teaching – that’s my responsibility. But I would ask of the tsar that we make a pledge between us to be allies for the good of both our countries. I offer the protection of our harbor and free access to our markets, which are about to be enlarged with goods to trade from the countries King Adam and I were granted good terms with as we traveled through the lands to the south and east of Valeureux, as well as from Valeureux herself. You have heard of the Ruby Market?”

That really did take the man aback. “That is just a legend!”

“No, that’s the Rubis Marché, in my home kingdom,” Adam corrected politely. “We were under a curse for more than a decade which made everyone forget we existed.” A black-and-white dog with a longish shaggy coat and a curled tail arching over its back had come slinking up beside the captain’s leg, and one sniff in Adam’s direction set it to baring its teeth and whining deep in its throat; he rolled his eyes. “And here’s another legacy the curse left, unfortunately.”

The seaman Dimitry chuckled. “Well, I see you were not lying about dogs not liking you.”

“Dimitry!” This time the captain rolled his eyes. “Is that why you came up here? I will have you following Ivor around as his body servant until our next port.”

“His name is Ivor?” Adam went down to one knee, and the dog growled; he slowly and cautiously held out his hand. Asher’s stablemaster also kept dogs, and he’d taken some pains to teach Adam how best to approach the members of their hunting pack. “Ivor,” he said, locking eyes with the frightened animal. “It’s all right, I won’t hurt you.”

Ivor sniffed again, and inched closer. He finally came right up to the outstretched hand…and then broke eye contact, baring his throat with a whine. Adam responded to this by stroking the black-and-white head and allowing the dog to lick his hand, then ruffling the gradually straightening ears. “Oh my, you are a good dog, aren’t you?”

Captain Dezhnev seemed rather more in shock over this than he had any of the other revelations he’d just been receiving. “Ivor is a Karelian hunting hound – bred to hunt bears,” he said. “He has never submitted to any creature besides me, not even to the wild wolves.” Adam gave the dog another pat and stood back up, and the captain gave him a considering look. “I have heard another legend about a cursed kingdom, but I thought it was in the northern hills where the flame-haired barbarians live.”

“Same fairy, different kingdom,” Adam told him, just managing not to sigh; was there nowhere that story hadn’t been heard? “You’re thinking of the Castle of Ballanshire, whose master was turned into a Beast and died in that form as punishment for his monstrous ways. Valeureux’s curse was put on for a different reason, and as you can see, it was broken.”

“Ivor seems to think you kept at least some of it,” the other man countered. “But I will not argue the point. So your only request here today is that I attend your coronation as a witness two days hence?”

“Yes, and take news of it and my request for alliance back to your ruler. Still Tzar Ivan?” John asked, and the captain nodded. “You may bring some of your men as well if you like. It won’t be a very large ceremony, and I’m just hoping it won’t be an exciting one.”

That made Dezhnev laugh. “You have just jinxed yourself, saying that. Be sure you have made plans for excitement, as you are almost certain to get some now.” He considered a moment more, stroking his beard, then held out his hand; if he was somewhat surprised when John shook it readily, and Adam did as well, he didn’t show it. “I will be there, and bring those of my men who can behave in company. What token shall I give for our entrance?”

“Just say you’re there on behalf of Tsar Ivan,” John told him. “I’ll be telling the guards to expect you. If you like, though, I can send my man Claude down with a written invitation, that way you’ll have something more than memories to bring to your king as proof of what went on here.”

“Do that,” Dezhnev requested. “I will be here. What kind of servant is he?”

“He’s my huntsman,” John supplied. “He volunteered to come with us from Valeureux, he said there wasn’t enough game there for his taste and he thought I might need a man who was skilled enough with his gun to take down a charging bear.”

“If the castle is as gold-poor as you think, you are likely to need him sooner rather than later,” Dezhnev observed good-naturedly. “Very well, then, I will see you in two days…and then we will see what news I will be carrying back to the tsar concerning the throne of Arendelle.”

The two younger men both favored him with a short bow and then made their way back down to the pier, and Dezhnev went back up to the wheel to think; Dimitry followed him. “Well, Captain?”

“We will go,” Dezhnev said. “Four men will go with me – and you are not to be one of them. I will want strong swords, just in case.”

“You think there will be trouble.”

“Oh, I am sure there will be,” the captain told him, smiling just a little. “They lack numbers, or he would not have come himself. You realize who it is he has married? The Ice Queen has no need of swords, or witnesses, perhaps not even allies…but this man, he does things as a mortal ruler of a small kingdom rather than as the consort of a deadly witch who could kill with the merest flick of her fingers. He reaches first for an olive branch and extends it to those whom his enemies fear instead of hiding behind the skirts of his wife. He is a wise man, I think.”

“And the other?”

“Gave honor to a bookkeeper and chose him as husband for his sister. I want to hear the story of these men, and this queen, and I believe Cousin Ivan will as well. If they are as I suspect, our alliance with them could be profitable indeed,” his smile widened, “and not just in gold or goods.”

 

Far beneath the bustle of the castle in a dungeon nobody could remember ever having used, the former Chief Councilor of Arendelle was sitting in his cell, fuming. The little upstart who thought he could be king – like anyone who wasn’t a superstitious fool was going to accept that – had said he meant to exile him, but Tarben couldn’t think that was actually going to happen. There was no proof that young John belonged to the line he was claiming to be head of, and Tarben knew it because he’d helped destroy any evidence which might have linked them years before. He himself was the only person left who’d known everything, he was sure of it. Known about the ridiculous marriage plot their former queen had cooked up twenty-odd years ago, known how old Loren Andresson had jumped at the chance to get his sickly eldest daughter out of the line of succession, known that Katarina Lorensdottir had been basically made to disappear on her marriage to old Sir Jonas. It had been expedient to do so, as it had cleared the way for Karl Lorensson to become head of that family line, which was what his father had wanted. Not that Karl hadn’t wanted it, because he’d wanted it quite a bit; but still, it had been his father’s idea and that idea had been given to his father by Queen Astrid.

Who had gotten it from Tarben, although no one knew that. She’d wanted a match for the old bookkeeper and Tarben had feared what might happen if she demanded the hand of one of the current worthies’ more eligible – read more valuable – daughters, so he’d scouted around for a blooded but unwanted daughter and found Katarina, and then he’d let his queen know that she could demand a daughter from Loren Andresson and with a few simple concessions he’d happily agree to give her his eldest. The disastrous inclusion demanding the marriage bear fruit had been all her idea, though. She’d laughed about it, the queen, about the idea of stiff old Sir Jonas having to perform in his marriage bed. The King’s Chancellor had been disgusted by the whole situation – privately, but it had shown on his face – and had not been at all amused when she’d demanded that Tarben be named Chief Councilor for his assistance with her plan.

Tarben had only refrained from telling his queen about this reaction in hopes of further elevating his position because, in truth, he’d been afraid the chancellor might kill him if he did. He hadn’t been a man to try, Lord Aronson, not unless you wished to lose – badly. Tarben hadn’t been sorry when he’d died, as that had cleared the way for him to see more of his own ideas put into play, but he could admit that the man had been a strong, loyal servant of the Crown and that Arendelle had suffered for his loss.

Which had gone well with Tarben’s plans, of course. He’d been so close! His contacts in the Danish court had been whispering in their king’s ear on his behalf for years now, and he knew he’d only needed to wait a little longer before sending word that the princess was dead and then Arendelle could have quietly taken her place in the Danish commonwealth. Some of the people might not have liked it, but once the gold had started to flow and their town had become a rich, bustling city he’d been sure most of them would have come around. Not the superstitious ones, of course, who were dedicated to the idea that an ancient sea god had founded Arendelle, but the reasonable ones who knew what wealth meant had already let him know that they were accepting of his plan.

Of course, most of them were gone now. Karl Lorensson had been the first, but he’d been followed by others. Some had left, others had become reclusive, and one had gone mad and thrown himself off the docks. And then Councilor Erling had been felled right in front of him…well, Tarben didn’t understand that. He knew magic was real, of course, he wasn’t a fool, but he also didn’t believe John Kepperson had any. He was having a hard enough time believing the boy had not only come back, but had confronted him right in the audience chamber and then violently disarmed him.

The small fact that John had only disarmed him instead of just killing him and being done with it was also confusing…but perhaps somewhat heartening as well. The boy was the misbegotten get of a foolish queen’s bored fancy, raised to take his father’s place in the old counting room and nothing else. Whatever motive this supposed elder son of their king and queen might have had by raising his rank, that hadn’t given a bookkeeper knowledge of how to run a kingdom. And it wasn’t like the princess was going to be able to help him, she was barely able to read and write! So perhaps this little incident was a more advantageous thing than he’d originally thought. Being exiled wasn’t a hardship to a man who had friends; he would go to one of them and then have them take him to see the High King. If the Danes moved quickly, they could take Arendelle while the boy and his royal witch were still trying to figure out what they were doing, kill them both, and then start setting the country to rights.

He sighed. It really was a pity the boy had lived to interfere. They’d been so certain the princess would kill him! Tarben still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t…

“Why would I have?” The sweet voice answering what Tarben had thought he’d only voiced in his head startled him badly, and he looked up to see the princess standing before the barred door to his cell. She didn’t look at all like she had the last time he’d seen her – she was wearing foreign finery, a gown of a much fuller cut than was the upper-class fashion in Arendelle, and she almost looked plump. Her white-gold hair was coiled around her head like a crown, and into it was pinned a gold circlet worked into the shape of a twisted branch with gold-traced leaves and ruby fruit. She was gazing at him with curious blue eyes that still had a rather dangerous heat in them. “He was helping me, and I was grateful. And even knowing as little as I did, I could tell he was good at his job. So why did you want him dead?”

Perhaps he could do something with this. “My dear princess, nobody _wanted_ him dead,” Tarben assured her in his most ingratiating tone. “Whatever lies he told you…well, they were just that: lies. We sent him to speak with you because he could be spared from his duties and the rest of us couldn’t, that was all. You were rather…volatile at that time, if you’ll recall.” He put on a very thoughtful face and shook his head. “I never thought the boy was quite right, but I never imagined he was as bad as that. Did he also try to tell you there was a plot to kill you as well? I’m sure he did.”

She smiled at him. “Actually, he tried very hard _not_ to tell me that, Chief Councilor: he did not want to upset me. But as I gained an education I began to suspect that something had been left out of the story he’d told me that night, and once it was confirmed I called on Olaf’s snow that I might speak with him and discovered the truth.”

She’d done _what_? “That thing…it was an abomination! The people were terrified of it…”

“He was harmless unless I’d wanted him not to be,” she corrected. “And most of the people had never even seen him. So you killed him because you were afraid of him, not to mention making sure the fire would do it, is that what it was?”

Tarben huffed. “More lies. I didn’t kill anyone.”

She inclined her head, acknowledging that. “You gave the order, that puts his death on your head, Chief Councilor. You were planning to have me killed as well, of course…and that is treason.”

“I would have had every right,” he countered primly. “You attacked the entire country!”

“By accident,” she corrected again. “You also conspired to have the duly appointed Royal Bookkeeper killed, and you have used the meager contents of the royal treasury to live a life of luxury while the other servants worked only for their keep.” She indicated the robe he was wearing. “Velvet requires special care, the expense simply isn’t worth it for any but the most special of occasions. Not to mention silk and wool wear so much better.”

Tarben folded his arms across his velvet-covered chest, the gold embroidery on the wide cuffs of his robe glinting in the light of the corridor’s lantern. “Did you come down here to lecture me about fashion, Princess? Because I can tell you right now, the worthies of Arendelle will turn their noses up in disgust at the gown you’re wearing.”

To his surprise, she shrugged. “Why would I care about that? And I was lecturing you about excess, Councilor, not fashion, and about putting your own desires before the  needs of your people – and despite your descendancy, by your oaths they _are_ your people as well as ours.”

He was taken aback. Where had the childish, uneducated princess gone? She sounded…

…Like a queen. A mature, intelligent queen who could easily stop an invading force with a flick of her finger, freezing the harbor to keep the ships out – or freezing the ships in place so they could not dock. Tarben swallowed. He wasn’t going to be speaking to the Danes’ High King – the man would laugh at him for even suggesting that he involve himself in such a situation, if not have him killed on the spot. “What do you want from me, then?”

She cocked her head. “Honestly? I just wanted to see where they had you and what conditions you were being kept in. It seems somewhat chill and damp, but you have that fine thick robe so I’m sure the cold isn’t troubling you too much. And I did want to ask you why you’d wanted our Royal Bookkeeper dead, but I suppose you’ve answered that question for me already so I really don’t have anything else to say to you.”

She turned and walked away from the cell, moving out of his sight, and suddenly a kind of mania seized him. She was just leaving him here, just like that!? He all but threw himself at the bars, wrapped his hands around them. They were cold, icy cold. “He should never have been born!” he yelled after her. “Much less given any sort of position – his entire existence was nothing but a cruel joke of the queen’s! It would have been better for everyone if he’d been drowned at birth, and his father would agree!”

Silence. Rather shocked at himself, he let go of the bars and went to sink back down on the end of the cot, shaking. “He would,” he whispered. “That old goat hated the child that was forced on him, hated the wife, hated everyone except the queen who was responsible for it all.”

“You forgot to add yourself to that equation,” a deep, hollow voice said, making him jump again and look around wildly. Nobody was there. A chuckle sounded, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. “Oh, Tarben, you truly are a fool if you thought I didn’t know whose hand chose Katarina for the queen’s cruel game. And we were all fools, all of us, for choosing blind loyalty over reason and sense.”

And that was when a patch of pale light grew along the damp stones of the wall, and the ghostly image of an old man’s lined face poked out, much like a person looking around the edge of a doorway. The face was familiar to Tarben, but where there should have been eyes were only fathomless black holes. “No, you’re…you’re dead! The witch is doing this, it’s all magic and games, you’re long dead!”

The shade stepped the rest of the way through his ‘door’, brushing absently at his somewhat shabby coat. He’d been tall in life, and spare, and he really looked very little like his more compactly-built son. Except perhaps for a certain set of his jaw, that was, as stubbornness was a trait he had certainly passed down in full measure. The black hole eyes fixed on Tarben, who almost threw himself from the cot to press himself against the far wall. The shade did not advance further, however, but merely stood there staring at him. And then it looked around, up through the ceiling apparently, and grimaced slightly. “The books are a mess. Someone has much to answer for.”

Tarben thought fast. “Y-your son, he abandoned his post…”

“I know – and I know his reasoning.” The black hole eyes swung back down. “He chose as a man who had no choices left save bad ones, and his decision was the best he could make.” The shade cocked his head. “You think I would fault him for saving two kingdoms and gaining the favor of the lords of the sea? I was bitter in life, yes, and cold toward my son as the years had leached all warmth from me…but I did not hate him, nor wish he had not been born. Nor did I hate his poor mother, sadly used creature that she was. You, however…” He made as though to take a step forward, long arm reaching out to point, and Tarben almost soiled himself. “You, vile snake that you are, _you_ I hate. If I had one fault to find with my son, it would be that he did not run you through when he had the chance – for if ever there was a time when I would have wished impulse to rule him rather than consideration, it would have been in that moment. The thought of you being sent away in chains, wretched and despised by all who see you, is my only consolation.”

“He won’t chain me! I am the Chief Councilor of Arendelle!”

“You are a traitor to the Crown and the kingdom and to everything that makes a man,” the shade of Sir Jonas Kepperson corrected, but mildly, as though offering correction to one too simple to absorb a stronger rebuke. His arm had fallen back to his side. “My son and his wife will not be cruel to you, but neither will they be overly kind – they will send a message, to the town, to the Danes, and to all others who should hear that the days of Arendelle ignoring the insults given to her are over, and that the days of her being run by a king with sense have come again.” He cocked his head again, taking a step back and in doing so disappearing partway through the wall. “Did you know the horse my son took to spirit his princess to safety, he took as weregild for the insult given to her by the Prince Hans? Bookkeepers always seek balance, Tarben Jorsten – to do otherwise is not in our nature. Remember that in the days to come.”

And then he was just gone, as though he’d never been there at all. Tarben started to return to the cot, then thought better of it and instead slid down the wall to huddle within his velvet robes, shivering. He’d never believed in ghosts…but then, he’d not believed in the gods either. And never would he have believed that the shade of a blind bookkeeper could cause him to know such fear as he now felt.

 

In a place that somewhat…wasn’t, but was yet within the castle’s walls, Jonas bowed to Ari. “Thank you for that.”

“You’re the boy’s father, it was your place to take.” Ari shrugged. “You’re still determined to do what you proposed?”

Jonas nodded. “It’s the least I can do. After that tale you told me…well, I owe my son a happier memory of his father than the one he defied in the dark woods that night.” He smirked, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling. “Bookkeepers do always seek balance, you know.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Ari told him. “John and his brother-in-law are just now on their way back from seeking it with the Northmen.”

“The one force on the waves the Danes don’t dare anger,” Jonas approved. He stretched. “Well, I’ve work to do. The coronation?”

“In two days time. I’ll come find you.”

“I thank you for that as well.” Jonas bowed again before disappearing, and after one final approving look into the dungeon with its cowed and quaking occupant Ari did as well.


	41. More Work To Be Done

Per’s mother had come, and she had indeed screamed when she’d seen the state of not just the royal wing but also most of the rest of the castle as well. She and Elsa had put their heads together and then had Jor gather the staff for them, and once they’d both gotten done being horrified over how few people were actually there to do the work they’d set about deciding on how many more would be needed. Mrs. Jaspersson thought she could have most of their final tally filled by the next morning; she knew people who were trustworthy and would be happy to have a job at the castle working for the new king and queen – they wouldn’t be living there, just working there, as the castle’s servants’ quarters were poor indeed and Elsa had insisted that they were not fit to bring new people into. “I am ashamed that I didn’t know you were living in such conditions,” she told her assembled housekeeping staff, which consisted of Jor, the cook, two kitchen maids and two maids-of-all-work. “And it won’t be allowed to go on any longer. We need rooms for everyone to sleep in tonight, of course, and I’ll show you which ones I want prepared, but while you do that I’ll be going over the servants’ quarters again with Jor to decide what is needed immediately and what can wait until Lord Kepperson has had a chance to examine the treasury.”

“That shouldn’t take him long,” the cook observed with a roll of her eyes. “We’ve been told often enough that it’s empty.” She fended off the glare Jor gave her with a flap of her hand. “No, she ought to know! Not like it wasn’t going on before she ran off, leaving the councilors to run things as they pleased while she frolicked with her lover in another kingdom!”

Dead silence. Mrs. Jaspersson’s mouth had dropped open, Jor looked somewhere between furious and ashamed and the maids were wide-eyed and cringing, but Elsa merely cocked her head, looking thoughtful. In truth, she was thinking of Mrs. Potts, and what the older woman would have made of such an outburst. Mrs. Potts could be quite familiar with Adam, of course, but there was a reason for that. “In my brother’s kingdom, his cook sometimes speaks to him in a very familiar way,” she finally said. “But that’s because she helped raise him, you see – she’s like a mother to him, so certain liberties are permissible. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before today.” She turned to the butler. “Jor, please see that this woman is allowed to gather her belongings and then escorted off of the castle grounds. How many years has she worked here?”

The old man swallowed. “Some fifteen years, Your Highness.”

Elsa nodded. “And for how many of those years has she not been paid for her work?”

He thought about it. “Five years, Your Highness. That was when the rest of us were stricken from the books.” She nodded again. “You knew?”

“My husband told me; I was more than horrified,” was her answer. “He also told me that the councilors insisted he keep paying _them_ , though.” Jor nodded, grimacing. “Very well, please add up how much everyone should have gotten over the past five years and then give me the list and I’ll see that it’s taken out of Chief Councilor Tarben’s holdings – I’m sure he has gold squirreled away somewhere. We’ll not make the cook wait for hers, though, because I don’t want her back in the castle.” She pulled a little pouch out of a pocket in her skirt and rooted around in it for a moment. “Jor, is there someone in town who can change gems?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Good.” She pulled out a blue stone about the size of the first joint of her index finger, held it up to the light to check it for flaws, and then held it out to the red-faced, openmouthed cook. “This should do for both back pay and a bit of pension as well – fifteen years of service deserves something, whether you made a bad end of it or not. I do hope you remember your place better in your next job.” The cook reached out to take the blue stone, but no sooner had her fingers touched it than dainty ice claws wrapped around her wrist, imprisoning her hand. The woman shrieked and the other servants drew back, but Elsa remained unmoved. “I am sure there have been all kinds of wild rumors flying around over the last two years…but you must have been here that night, and as he grew up in the castle you had to have known my husband, so you definitely knew better than what you just said to me.” She leaned forward, looking the now-terrified woman in the eye. “Your personal opinions of myself and my husband aside, I am still your ruler; eldest daughter of King Hector and Queen Astrid, sister to both King Adam de Valeureux and Queen Anna of the Rock Trolls, and all of us blood descendants of the founding ruler of Arendelle. You and the others have been badly used, yes – but that was not my doing, and your lack of respect for the line if nothing else is unacceptable. If you ever seek to enter the castle gates again, I’ll see you working for your passage on the next ship leaving the dock, do you understand?” The cook whimpered. “I said: Do. You. Understand?”

“Yyyess, Your…Your Highness!”

And the claws contracted, closing the woman’s fingers around the blue gem before dissolving into a fall of snowflakes. Elsa stepped back. “Jor, please also make sure whichever guard is sent with her escorts her to the gem dealer and from there to whatever place she chooses to go. I wouldn’t like someone to take advantage of her upset state to rob her.”

“I’ll see that it’s done exactly as you ask, Your Highness.”

Jor bowed to her, then took the shaking cook’s arm and pulled her out of the room, and Elsa was please to see that although he was quite obviously angry, he was not being overly rough in his handling of the woman. She turned to Per’s mother. “Mrs. Jaspersson, do you know of anyone who might be able to manage the castle’s kitchen? I’m not bad at cooking over a camp’s fire, but I’m afraid my skills in the kitchen are limited to doing the dishes, making tea, and making sure there’s a basket of apples set near the door for John and Adam.”

Mrs. Jaspersson hid a smile. She hadn’t been sure, when her son had come running to fetch her, just what sort of situation she might encounter; while the castle was in far worse straits than she’d hoped, their young queen was much better trained than she’d had any reason to expect. “I do that for my husband and son as well,” she said. “It keeps them from stealing the baking when my back is turned. And I do know someone, and she can start this very hour if you’ll permit me to go fetch her, Your Highness. Her name is Maiken Andorsdottir, she’s the sister of Per’s captain of the guard, and I taught her myself so I know she’s up to the task. She’s been helping me in Per’s kitchen, but there’s not nearly enough work for the both of us.”

Elsa smiled. “If you’re sure you can spare her, she sounds perfect. Is Per waiting, or should I send someone with you?”

Oh yes, this one was a good girl. “I’m sure my son is waiting, Your Highness. With your leave, we can go fetch Maiken and have her here to take charge of things within the hour – and I can scoop up a few others along the way.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” Elsa told her. “And in the meantime, the kitchen maids can see to cleaning up the old cook’s room for her.”

The two girls so named nodded just short of violently, bobbing quick curtseys and then scurrying off when Elsa nodded to them; Per’s mother dropped a curtsey of her own and left as well, only just able to hold her smile back until she was out of the room. Her waiting son raised a questioning eyebrow. “Something amusing happen?”

She took his offered arm. “We’re going to go fetch Maiken, she’s to be the castle’s new cook. The princess just sent the old one off – with back pay and pension, no less, and with a good scare besides as payment for her impertinence. And then she set the kitchen maids to cleaning up the old cook’s room for Maiken; they nodded so hard I thought their heads might bob off.”

Per smiled. “I told you you’d like the princess, Mother. Just wait until you meet Lord Kepperson…”

 

John and Adam came back from their errand in good spirits, but when they went to see how Elsa was getting on they found a very disapproving Councilor Fritjof there attempting to convince her of how improperly everything was being handled. “I realize you left the castle during something of a bad situation,” he was saying. “But really, Princess, you can’t just come storming back into the kingdom you abandoned and start changing things to suit whatever whim has taken you…”

“Oh, but I can,” she assured him sweetly. “And you still haven’t explained to me why you don’t think I should have let the cook go, Councilor.”

The little man drew himself up. “It was ill-considered, Your Highness! She was merely overwrought, what with all that’s gone on today. She would have apologized if you’d only been patient and made allowance…”

“Absolutely not,” Elsa cut him off. “And she wasn’t overwrought, Councilor, she was completely disrespectful – not only to myself, but also to Jor.” Then she smiled over his shoulder and waved. “Oh good, you’re back! Councilor Fritjof was just trying to explain to me why I shouldn’t have let the cook go, but I’m afraid I simply don’t understand the point he’s trying to make.”

Fritjof colored up when he realized they were no longer alone. “Well I…that is to say…”

“Oh, I’d love to hear you say it,” John told him, changing their angle of approach so that he and Adam were obliquely blocking the man’s avenue of escape. “The cook, you said, Elsa? I’m sure he felt he couldn’t just put the thing plainly in your presence; we men rather shy away from those topics around women, you know.”

The councilor’s mouth fell open. “I…”

John rolled his eyes. “Oh come now, you’ve had an ‘arrangement’ with the cook for how long, Councilor? It’s not like everyone in the castle didn’t know about it. What did she do, forget her station again?”

Elsa made a face. “Oh John, you don’t mean she’s done that before, do you?”

“All the time,” he assured her. “You sent her packing for it?”

She nodded. “I gave her something for back pay and pension, since she’d been here for so long – I’d never seen her before myself, but Jor said she’d been here fifteen years.”

“Yes, Father told me she was brought in to take the old cook’s place, although he never told me why that one left,” John agreed. “He did mention that Councilor Fritjof here recommended her for the position, though, and that we were lucky she could actually cook.”

Now Fritjof was really red. “I…you…that is highly inappropriate!”

This time Adam rolled his eyes. “Really, Councilor, we’re all adults here. But to quote our father: This is what happens when you consort with the upper servants. How rude was she, Elsa?”

Elsa pretended a frown. “She said I’d been off ‘frolicking with my lover in another kingdom’. And I’ll have you know,” she told Councilor Fritjof sternly, “I didn’t even know what ‘frolicking’ entailed until last spring. Imagine how horrified I was when someone finally explained to me exactly what Chief Councilor Tarben had _really_ been asking me to do with Prince Hans!”

The councilor went from red to white just that quickly. “I…um, Your Highness, I…was not a part of that decision, I assure you.”

“Of course you weren’t,” she allowed. “Now, if you’re done making your complaint – and I’d have understood why you were upset much sooner if you’d just come right out and told me about your ‘arrangement’ with the cook – I have matters to discuss with my husband and my brother while we wait for the new staff to be brought in.”

“Oh, I…of course, Your Highness, of course. I’ll make time to speak with you later.”

Fritjoff made a short bow to her, managing to include Adam in the gesture but not John, and then left the room as quickly as he could without running. Everyone managed not to laugh until he was gone, and John kissed his wife. “So, we’re getting a new cook?”

“Mrs. Jaspersson knew just the person,” she told him, returning the kiss. “And a few others besides, although the rest of them will only be coming in to do the day-work – the servants’ quarters are in an absolutely shameful state, and most of the rooms we should have for guests aren’t that much better. So I have them cleaning up the king’s and queen’s rooms for the three of us, and I’m still trying to figure out where we’re going to put Claude. Possibly the councilors’ sitting room if nothing else.”

“I’d already had an idea about that,” John told her. “Claude, you can sleep in Chief Councilor Tarben’s rooms for the time being – they’re already clean, and that way the other two can’t sneak in there to remove anything.”

Claude raised an eyebrow. “Wealth or evidence of wrongdoing?”

John shrugged. “Both, honestly, and they’re nearly the same thing at this point. Tarben had expensive tastes, and I’m considering it all forfeit to the Crown because that’s whose money he used to get most of it. We’ll pack up a small traveling bag with basic necessities for him, and any personal mementos he might have, but that’s all he gets to take when he goes.”

Claude nodded. “I can pack a bag for him, my lord. Clothing too?”

“No, just an extra set of underclothes and socks,” John said. “I’ll let him change clothes before the coronation, but he’s not taking his wardrobe with him – we’ll pick out which velvet robe he gets to keep later. Right now Adam and I need to go sort out his office…oh, and I’ll need you to deliver a formal invitation to one Captain Dezhnev down at the docks later, Claude. He’ll probably ask you all sorts of questions, and you’re to feel free to tell him anything about Valeureux you think is appropriate.” He smiled. “He and his crew are Northmen, and they’ll be here as witnesses for their ruler, Tzar Ivan of the Empire of Rasseeyah. With any luck he’ll be willing to ally with us to get one up on the Danes, and for access to our harbor and our markets.”

Claude couldn’t imagine that Tzar Ivan would be at all reluctant to ally himself with Arendelle, and by the time he’d delivered the invitation and answered all of the captain’s questions he was sure of it. Captain Dezhnev was a shrewd man, and Claude was certain he was well aware of just who it was that had signed the invitation. Comeuppance and trade aside, no ruler in his right mind was going to refuse an alliance with the so-called Ice Queen of Arendelle.

There had been questions about that too, of course, and Claude had gladly told him about the comtesse keeping Valerueux’s ice houses full and about the traps she’d laid around their camp to keep back bandits – he even described the ice sentry she’d created which had broken the outlaw’s knife, and the large ice spider which had frightened the man back to the inn. Captain Dezhnev had been outwardly quite amused by that story, as had those of his men who’d been blatantly eavesdropping, but his dark eyes had been thoughtful and he had given Claude a nod which indicated that the intended message had been received: The soon to be crowned again Queen of Arendelle used her power to care for and protect those people who deserved such consideration, as her own kingdom for a time perhaps had not.

Afternoon was turning to evening once Claude finally made his way back to the castle, and he took note of some pointed looks he received on his way back and duly reported them. “There’s apparently been enough gossip from the castle that they know the look of our clothes now,” he told Lord Kepperson and King Adam, who were still digging through the piles of papers and books in the imprisoned councilor’s office to find out just how deep his treachery had gone – quite deep already, if the expressions on their faces were any indication. “You won’t be able to go into the town unguarded again, my lords, it wouldn’t be safe.”

“Most likely not,” John agreed with a sigh. “The castle gates will be locked tonight as usual and the remaining guards are loyal, but we’ll all brace our doors after we turn in for the night, just in case.” He put down the letter he’d been frowning over and stood up. “All right, that’s it – I’m so tired I’m seeing double and all I want to do is stomp down to the dungeons and wring Tarben’s treacherous neck. Instead, though, I think we’ll all go down to dinner and then call it a night.”

“An excellent plan,” Adam agreed, putting aside the book whose leaves he’d been checking through – they’d already found a good many notes and missives tucked away in the former chief councilor’s bookshelves, and even a few books which had been hollowed out to hold all in a manner of foreign currencies, jewels, and rich trinkets. He stood up and stretched. “I don’t want to go to bed too early, though. You did say those lights in the sky would be much clearer from the castle than they were up in the mountains.”

“Yes, the fog was hiding them,” John said. “I didn’t realize they were only seen here in the north, you know, until we’d been in Valeureux for a while and I realized you didn’t have them – and at first I attributed that to the curse. We’re lucky we got here in time for you to see them, they’re only this bright through the beginning of spring, and then we won’t see them as well again until winter comes.” He slapped Adam’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s a book that talks about them somewhere in the library, or maybe a painting we can send back with you so you won’t have to try to explain them to Queen Belle.”

Adam just laughed. “She’ll tear our library apart to find out about them regardless, I’m sure. So the new cook says there’s food?”

“The councilors were eating quite well,” John pointed out, letting them precede him out of the room so he could lock the door behind them. “And it won’t be up to your standards of course, Adam – or yours either, Claude – but I’m told there’s even wine.”

That made Adam laugh out loud, and Claude fell into step behind them as they made their way down the stone corridor, chuckling.

 

Early in the morning of the day after their arrival in Arendelle, John left his wife asleep in the large, richly-appointed bed which had once belonged to her father and made his way down to the kitchen to get himself some tea, and then he went up to the old counting room, grabbing a full lamp as he went. But at the door he hesitated, steeling himself. He’d devoted his entire life to maintaining the contents of this room, as had his father before him, and although he didn’t regret the choice he’d made that awful night he couldn’t deny that there had been many, many times after that he’d been pained by the thought of what was probably happening to the books in Arendelle in his absence. Councilor Erling had said they were in a ‘state’, as was the treasury. Would he even be able to fix them? Arendelle wasn’t Valeureux, with its simple ledgers and equally simple agreements: Arendelle was a long-established kingdom on the trade routes, with income based in dozens of agreements and alliances, all of which had to be carefully monitored and the flows of gold and goods just as carefully recorded. A lapse in those records could spell disaster for the castle, for the town, for the entire kingdom.

He opened the door, swinging it wide…and almost dropped the lamp onto the flagstones.

Adam found him in the counting room some time later, his head down on the large worktable which dominated the center of the windowless, comfortless room. Heavy shelves loaded with thick old books and leather-bound ledgers covered the walls, and stacks of both were piled on the table. One lay open, as though to let the ink dry, and atop it was a scrap of foolscap laid in the pages’ crease in a manner quite familiar to Adam, and on that scrap was a message in handwriting that was unfamiliar but which matched that of the ledger’s entries. _The man who would be king has more pressing matters to deal with than the books_ , it read. _I am so proud of you, my son_.

The hair stood up on the back of Adam’s neck. “He…”

“Fixed it.” John sniffed and raised his head; his eyes were red from crying, his glasses lying by the lamp. “He…he fixed it _all_ , Adam. The books are caught up and correct…right up to yesterday. He…he even noted the value of the stone Elsa gave the cook, and assigned it in parts to back pay and pension.” A rough laugh forced its way out of his throat. “Rather less than…the woman probably thought it would be.”

“My sister wouldn’t have been too generous with her, no.” Adam put a hand on his shoulder, then thought better of it and sat down on the wooden bench beside him, pulling his friend into a comforting embrace. “The ghosts weren’t reflecting his feelings, John…they were reflecting your own fears. I think he must always have been proud of you. How could he not be? It’s not every man who can do all that you’ve done, and especially not in such a short time as you’ve managed to do it.”

He felt John nod against his shoulder, although when his friend straightened away from him he didn’t let go. “I was…afraid of that, yes,” John said, pulling out an already damp handkerchief – one of the ones Mrs. Potts and Annette had embroidered for him – and swiping at the few tears that were still leaking. “I never would have thought…he’d do this, though. Or even that he could.” Another raw laugh, although this one held more good humor than the last had. “Although I probably should have. If anyone would…come back from the dead to set the books to rights…it would be my father.”

“There was a reason he had a title,” Adam reminded him, then patted his shoulder and stood back up. “Come on, I was sent to bring you to breakfast. We’ll stop at your room along the way so you can freshen up.”

“A good idea,” John agreed, letting his friend help him up. He sniffed again, then shook his head and reached for the scrap of foolscap, removing it from the book and tucking it into the pocket that had held the handkerchief. “I’ll carry this with me,” he announced to the room at large, to the shade who might be listening. “I’ll carry it during the coronation so that I’ll have a part of you there, Father.”

He put his glasses back on and left the room quickly, and Adam took the lamp and followed; but at the doorway, the King of Valeureux turned back. “You’re right to be proud of him, and he deserves the crown,” he said softly. “He taught me what it meant to be a king, after all.”

Nothing answered him, something he was mostly glad of, and he closed the door and hurried to catch up with John. They still had a great deal of work to do today…but thankfully the books were no longer a part of it.


	42. A Somewhat Exciting Coronation

The Royal Audience Chamber in the Castle of Arendelle was a huge, echoing room with a smoothly laid stone floor and high vaulted ceiling, paneled with fine wood and hung with heavy draperies in strategic places in an attempt to keep back the chill which emanated from the thick stone walls. The two thrones on the step-high dais were of intricately carved cedar inlaid with ivory, gold and gems and cushioned with velvet, and the hangings which backed them were velvet as well and embroidered with gold thread. It was apparent on closer examination that there had once been some sort of stones attached to this embroidery, but they had long since been plucked – and in one place cut – away, and some of the threads were also missing. John had just shaken his head over that particular desecration, saying that was what happened when you stopped paying your staff, and Elsa had sent for the Royal Tailor and tasked him with repairing the damage to the embroidery and mending the fabric where needed. And when he’d refused, saying that task was beneath him, she’d called Jor, requested that a suitable replacement be called in, and summarily fired the Royal Tailor at the same time. The seamstress Jor had found was a seaman’s widow with a young daughter and an even younger son, and she had been overjoyed to be offered the position. And she had also been full of approval for the comfortable cut of her new mistresses gown and the fine workmanship which had gone into its making, which of course had made Elsa very happy with her.

Aside from her satisfaction with the new additions to the castle’s staff, however, Elsa was still quite nervous. Her last coronation ceremony had been unpleasant and frightening! She knew this time it would be different, this time she knew what she was doing and she wasn’t alone, but it was still making her nervous and being nervous caused the baby to make her feel ill. Luckily John had already anticipated that and thought of a solution. He’d taken her down to the audience room before breakfast that morning, waved his hand at the dust- and smoke-grimed, cobwebby ceiling and said, “Do you think a good frost would fix that?” And then he’d stood behind her, his arms around her waist, while she let her frustrations go on the ceiling until it was as pristine as the day the castle had been built. After which she’d called up a briskly cold breeze and swept all of the debris into a pile – scouring the stone floor clean at the same time – then froze the pile into a little block of dirty ice which John was happy to carry out of the room for her and put outside so it could melt. Then he took her for a walk around one of the gardens, and by the time they’d come back inside Elsa was happy and able to eat her breakfast, and therefore their coming baby was also happy and John was able to stop worrying that his wife would become ill during the ceremony while Councilor Erling was trying to crown her.

Not that he would have been very much upset if she’d gotten sick on the man, in fact he’d have found it funny and quite fitting, but Elsa would have been embarrassed and he wanted this to be a happy occasion for her. It wasn’t going to be too happy of an occasion for the disgraced councilor, but Erling was the one who had come crawling to John wanting to apologize and make amends, as apparently going insane or having to exile himself weren’t either one to his liking. John and Elsa and Adam had discussed it and decided that the man might also be hoping to stage some sort of coup during the ceremony itself…but if he did it probably wasn’t going to go well for him, and not just because everyone standing anywhere near him was going to be armed and observing his every twitch and grimace.

They had decided to hold the ceremony just past midday, and the day had happily dawned sunny and bright to accommodate them. Although Adam was definitely finding Arendelle’s idea of ‘sunny’ to be rather strange; just like John had told Claude, a fine spring day in Arendelle was more like a fine winter day in Valeureux. The castle gardens were just starting to show touches of green, and a mist lay over the tall firs which covered the sides of the mountains that rose up behind the massive stone walls. But of course, to Adam’s eyes everything about the Castle of Arendelle was massive. “It’s no wonder you’re not able to heat all of it,” he told John as they were getting ready to go down for the ceremony. “You might as well be trying to heat the town, or the side of a mountain.”

That made John laugh. “It’s not quite as large as that. But you’re right, that is part of the problem with heating it – that’s why we don’t bother with the rooms that aren’t in use.”

“Do you heat the dungeon?”

“No, there’s no need. It’s underground, it’s going to stay about the same temperature in any season except maybe the very deepest parts of the winter.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m counting on you to be able to break us out of there if something goes wrong, you know.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Nothing is going to go wrong, John. Here, let me straighten your sash, it’s caught on your belt.” John obligingly turned around and let him fix the sash – the same one he’d worn for his wedding, with the gold medallion bearing the image of a branch heavy with apples, the royal seal of Valeureux, affixed to it. His suit this time was black, however, and done in a thick merino wool – the royal tailor had tactfully avoided suggesting velvet, although he’d wanted to – which had been embroidered with the same branch-and-fruit pattern in black and gold thread on its turned-out crimson cuffs and collar. Adam was wearing a suit of identical cut, only with reversed colors and a great deal more gold-thread embroidery, and his sash and boots were lined with black fur. His gold medallion was also larger, and studded with small rubies, and of course he had his crown on as well. He adjusted the sash, and then the sword belt and then the sash again in consequence, letting out a huff of frustration. “I’m missing Lumiere right now. And my coronation was so much less fuss than this.”

John laughed again. “That’s because we had your coronation on a beach, and the other kings involved were both naked as the day they were born. If we’d tried that here I don’t think you’d have liked it much.”

“King Sel lives here,” Adam pointed out. “But yes, you’re probably right. Where’s Claude?”

“Awaiting us in the corridor, and two guards are stationed at the end of it. Kristoff?”

“Downstairs with Anna, looking twice as imposing as we do and he’s not even trying.” Adam knew this because he’d gone down earlier to make sure Captain Dezhnev and his men were admitted and given a place of honor where they could easily see and hear the ceremony. “I saw Councilor Fritjof skulking around whispering to people, and Councilor Erling doing his best to pretend he was too important to speak to anyone, but I didn’t see the former chief councilor. Waiting until everyone is assembled so they’ll all see him being brought up in chains?”

John nodded. “Yes. I feel we’re being extremely lenient otherwise. I even had the guards take down a clean robe for him, so he’ll be dressed for the occasion – he’ll just have manacles as his only ornaments.” He twitched at the sash again, resettling it, then went to the door to his wife’s chambers. “Elsa, are you ready?”

“Almost!” The door opened and Elsa swept out. Her gown was of deep burgundy silk, and it was topped with a black overdress covered with gold embroidery. The gown’s skirt was of a much narrower cut than the ones she usually wore, which had the effect of emphasizing the evidence that a royal baby was well on its way – as did the finely-worked leather belt with its jeweled knives which were the match to John’s fine sword. The ‘almost’ turned out to be the fastening of a necklace she was trying to put on, one of the gifts the seamen’s ghosts had given her, and once Adam had attended to that and John had straightened the knife belt, he stepped back to look and smiled, shaking his head. “You look like quite the barbarian queen today,” he teased. “The worthies of Arendelle will no doubt forget all about the cut of your dress and only speak of whether or not it’s fashionably correct to go armed to your coronation.”

“The queen sets her own fashion, she doesn’t bow to that set by others,” she told him, taking a kiss. “The crowns?”

“The other two guards from Valeureux are watching over them, although I’m told there’s still a line of people trying to get a glimpse.” As well there might be, of course, since the crowns had vanished when the old king and queen had – yet another lucky find from among the hoarded treasures in the bad fairy’s ‘gilded cage’, and proof that the former king and queen of Arendelle had indeed been found and were no longer living.

 

The assemblage of worthies in the royal audience chamber was quite a bit smaller than it had been at Elsa’s first coronation, if not quite so small as the crowd which had attended her wedding to John. This time there was no mingling with the guests, however. John and Elsa and Adam entered the room through the ‘King’s Door’, a little door which was partially concealed behind velvet curtains to one side of the thrones. Kristoff and Anna – who looked twice as pregnant as her sister, for obvious reasons – were standing on one side of the dais with several grim-looking Rock Trolls as guards, and Adam quickly took his own place on the opposite side with two of his own guards and Claude. John gave Elsa his arm and the two of them walked sedately to the front of the dais, and then as the crowd stilled itself into attentiveness he nodded to Councilor Erling that they should begin.

Which did not happen immediately, as that was when two guards led the former Chief Councilor of Arendelle into the room and took him to the place assigned to him. He looked shaken and somewhat unwell, his skin a little too pale and his eyes a little too wide. The richly decorated robes he was wearing only made his broken state more apparent; John had picked out the most ostentatious, elaborate outfit the man owned for the occasion, and so in comparison to the much more sedately dressed royal family he looked more than a little ridiculous.

Councilor Erling was doing his best not to take that spectacle in. He knew Tarben deserved it – he’d known it would probably come to this the moment the fool had tried to use one of the guards’ swords against John Kepperson in their own nicely appointed audience chamber two days earlier and had it slapped out of his stupid hands before being rebuked like a misbehaving child and dragged off to the dungeons to think about what he’d done. Which of course meant Tarben hadn’t been free to burn or hide the evidence of his treason, or even to just try to escape with as much gold as he could carry, and so they’d found it all and decided to thoroughly shame him in front of the very people whose support he’d been courting all these years. Who were also mostly all fools, so maybe it would be a good lesson for them – if any of them had the wit to learn it, that was. He doubted most of them did.

Not that he really cared one way or the other, of course, being much more occupied with his own concerns. Like the burning mark of dishonor hidden beneath his robes. He was doing his best to pretend that it hadn’t happened, even though he knew the guards who had been present had doubtless told as many people as had been willing to listen to them. No one would believe that story unless Erling himself somehow confirmed it, however, which he wasn’t going to do, so he had hope it would be put down to gossip and fade away as other scandals real or imagined came to the fore. In fact, the ridiculous, broken spectacle Tarben was making as he stood there shaking in his overly-fine robes and coarse iron manacles had probably driven it from most people’s minds already – that, and the way the princess was dressed, of course. Not to mention the presence of five well-dressed – not to mention well-armed – Northmen standing proudly in a position of honor at the front of the assembly, as well as the reappearance of the royal crowns which had been lost when King Hector and Queen Astrid had vanished. The golden orb had vanished some time after the disaster that had been their last coronation ceremony, so now all they had were the scepter and the crowns. Doubtless one of the former guests now had the orb sitting on their mantel as an ornament, probably that loud fool of a duke from Waselton.

Erling picked up the velvet pillow the scepter was lying on and held it out to the princess. “Princess Elsa of Arendelle,” he intoned. “Eldest daughter of Hector and Astrid. Are you here to claim the throne of Arendelle, as is your right by birth?”

He watched as she picked it up to see if the gold would grow a layer of frost like it had the last time, and was somewhat disappointed when it didn’t. “I stand before the people of Arendelle to claim the throne,” she said in a clear, strong voice. “I lay my claim to it by birth, as the eldest child of Hector and Astrid born on this soil, my right of inheritance ceded to me by my elder brother, King Adam of Valeureux, with the approval of King Sel, Lord of the Northern Waters and as witnessed by King Triton, Lord of the Southern Waters.”

Erling almost dropped the pillow. _Two_ sea kings? He recovered himself quickly, handing the pillow off to the servant who stood waiting and taking the queen’s crown from the guard who held it – one of the foreign guards, whose bland look did not quite conceal his suspicion. “Your claim is valid,” Erling answered, even though he could hear displeased murmuring from the crowd behind him – there was no way he was going to question her claim and risk having one of the Lords of the Sea show up to validate it in person. She lowered her head and he placed the crown on it, feeling illogically disappointed again when it glowed golden the moment it touched her white-gold hair; it hadn’t done so for her mother, or her father for that matter, although at that time few had noticed and no one of import had cared. He bowed, stepping to one side. “As she holds the scepter and wears the crown, I present to you Queen Elsa of Arendelle.”

A ragged and somewhat surprised cheer went up. Elsa nodded regally to the assembled – she was supposed to bow, but that wasn’t exactly possible for obvious reasons – and Erling took the king’s crown from the second suspicious foreign guard, feeling its weight in his hands as he held it up to the light. “Lord John Kepperson, Comte de Valeureux, son of Sir Jonas Kepperson and Katarina Lorensdottir,” he ground out, ignoring the gasps that went up from people who had been ignoring the gossip and those who were pretending they hadn’t already known of that scandal. “King Adam of Valeureux and King Kristoff of the Rock Trolls have sworn to your valor,” and if King Kristoff had sworn to it any louder they would have heard it in the Danes, “as well as your fitness to rule at Queen Elsa’s side by virtue of your marriage to her in the Kingdom of Valeureux. If you would take this position, kneel.” John at once took a knee – to Elsa, not to him – and Erling handed the crown to his newly-crowned queen with a deep bow he didn’t really mean, ignoring the sharp twinge of rebuke from the mark on his chest. “If Her Majesty would choose this man to share her throne, let her crown him with her own hands before all these witnesses.”

“I choose you, Lord Kepperson,” she said at once, lowering the crown onto his head. “For you have sworn to stand by my side in all things, and to help me save our kingdom from those forces which would see it destroyed or taken…so rise and stand by my side as King John of Arendelle.”

The crown glowed golden as John regained his feet. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “My Queen,” he said. “As I swore to you on our wedding day, we share one heart…and now, one throne.”

This time the cheering was louder and joined by a good deal of clapping as well. Erling resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. Well, at least now he knew how the boy had gotten her to marry him, although where he’d learned to use those sort of pretty words was anyone’s guess – definitely not from his father, that was certain. Something to look into later, perhaps, with an eye toward using evidence of past dalliances to keep their new king from being too disagreeable…he bowed his head to hide his grimace as the mark started to burn a bit more strongly: Lord Sel apparently did not think much of that plan. But of course, Lord Sel wasn’t the one who was going to have to deal with the little upstart and his royal-born witch…

The sudden realization that silence surrounded him brought his head back up and recalled his wandering thoughts, and he found himself facing his new king’s displeased frown. The queen and her brother were also frowning, and several royal guards the same. John rolled his eyes at Erling’s attempt to look confused by this attention. “Really, Councilor, your sour thoughts are all but playing us a tune. I didn’t expect this to be a happy occasion for you, but you were the one who came to me requesting to be allowed to fulfill your duties as you did not wish to exile yourself. Have you changed your mind?”

The double-damned bells, of course. Erling drew himself up. “No, Your Majesty.”

“Are you sure?”

Erling started to say yes, but a twinge from the mark stopped him. “If I choose to leave?”

John shrugged. “Then you gather your possessions and leave today; as I understand it, the burning of your curse will abate once you leave the lands and waters claimed by Arendelle, although the mark itself will remain. But if you choose to stay, you must swear your loyalty to the kingdom here and now, in front of all these witnesses, and that knowing the penalty the curse will inflict upon you if you lie.”

There was that. “Swear to the kingdom, not to yourself?”

The new king shook his head. “Loyalty to the land and the people are your duty, Councilor. Loyalty to a man, whether he is a king or not, must be earned.”

And that was when a most astounding thing happened. The golden glow on the king’s crown, which had been fading, brightened again, and from beneath the man’s feet an answering light spread out across the stones, forming the pattern of a seaman’s star backed by two crossed spears, the Royal Seal of Arendelle. Bells could be heard pealing as well, deep and musical…and to Erling’s ears, accusing. When he looked at John Kepperson he saw a bookkeeper’s unwanted son, a boy who didn’t know his place…but quite obviously the Lords of the Sea saw a king. He took a step back, considering that, then took a knee. “Your Majesties…I choose exile. I know myself as a stubborn man, and slow to change. I would leave with what honor I still possess, rather than stay here and wait for the curse and my own pride to strip it from me.”

“As you choose,” John told him. “You are dismissed from service, Erling, and from our presence. May you have good luck on your travels.”

Erling looked startled by that last sentiment, but he rose to his feet and nodded. “I…thank you, Your Majesty.”

He swept out, but before aught else could be said Captain Dezhnev strode forward to take his place. “Your Majesties, may I present congratulations and all good wishes for your family and the prosperity of your country on behalf of Ivan, Tzar of the Empire of Rasseeyah,” he declared with a very deep, elegant bow. “I bring such gifts as are in my power to give, but I would offer one more in the name of the tzar and in token of our future alliance: You have a message to be delivered, one which must be handled with great care. I would take that message for you – this very day, in fact, as my ship must sail with the tide.”

John nodded slowly. “I would accept that gift,” he said. “Provided the delivering of that message would not endanger yourself and your crew.”

Dezhnev smirked, shaking his head. “No more than any other voyage, Your Majesty. The wild waves are loyal to no man.”

“True,” John agreed. “In that case, Captain, I will accept gladly. This is a message I feel should be delivered without delay.”

“Oh, I agree – as will the tzar.” The captain motioned his men forward, presenting gifts of two pure white fox pelts, a colored glass bottle of warming spirits, a small chest which held spices, and another which contained salt. And then John had Claude fetch the traveling bag prepared for Tarben and very formally gave Dezhnev charge of the manacled ‘message’ which was to be delivered to the Danes.

This exchange provoked something of an outburst from Councilor Fritjof, who up until that point had merely been standing in his place and trying to look knowing and scandalized by turns for the benefit of those watching him. “Your Majesty, you can’t be serious!” John raised an eyebrow at him, and he quailed. “He is…I mean, he _was_ the Chief Councilor of Arendelle! We have ships which can take him to his place of exile…”

“That’s not where he’s going,” was John’s answer. “He considered himself to be in service to the Danes’ High King, so he’s being returned to the High King – and unfortunately, I can’t be sure one of our ships would deliver that message as it needs to be sent.” A rather grim smile. “Don’t forget, thanks to Tarben’s dedication to documenting his own treason, I have a list of _everyone_ who supported his idea that we should hand our country to the Danes in exchange for wealth – which would not have materialized, I hope you realize, once he had Arendelle in his grip.” He switched his focus to the crowd, many of whom were now looking more than a little worried. “Fully half of you should be considered traitors,” he announced plainly. “But we’ll give you a chance to redeem yourselves, because in our travels we’ve seen the terrible follies greed can inspire even in those who should have known better. So we will be watching for you to learn from your mistakes and do better…but if you fail, we won’t hesitate to banish you.”

“If Arendelle is to grow and prosper,” Elsa added, “we must put an end to corruption and petty intrigues. In our travels, we learned that the ways our country has fallen into cause other countries, other rulers, to look on us with disfavor. We must regain the respect of our allies, and prove to our enemies that we are worthy of their respect as well.”

That gained a scattering of applause and even some cheering, and Fritjof made a show of rolling his eyes. Which prompted the same from John. “Captain Dezhnev, we won’t keep you,” he said as though the last remaining councilor wasn’t standing there. “I had hoped to have time to speak with you further before you left port, but I know the tide won’t wait.”

“May the wind be brisk and the waves small,” Elsa said. “And may your next port welcome you with spirits and song.”

Dezhnev looked more than a little surprised by this. “Your Majesty…you know seamen?”

She nodded, touching the necklace at her throat with a sad smile. “I have, Captain. They were fine men, and one of them was a great friend to me.”

He blinked at her…and then swept another elegant bow. “Your Majesty, on my successful return…I would hear the tale of this man, if you care to tell it. Not all who ride the waves are good men, but we honor those who are. And it is now no mystery to me why the Lords of the Sea have given their blessing to your reign.” He nodded to John, who nodded back, and then marched out with his men, taking the pitiful former Chief Councilor of Arendelle with them.

John let the servants know with a wave of his hand that the formalities were over and they should start serving refreshments to the guests, and then he led his wife to her throne and settled her into it, making sure she was comfortable before taking his own seat. Chairs were brought for the rest of their family, including a footstool for Anna, and Elsa sent someone to bring Per and his wife up to join them as well. Other guests approached to offer congratulations or request a later audience, and all were addressed with great politeness.

Fritjof was not entirely sure what to make of this turn of events – most especially since the king and queen had rather blatantly snubbed him and as a result some of the other worthies in attendance were ignoring him as well. But at the same time, he was now the sole remaining councilor in Arendelle and was feeling rather puffed-up about it. Especially when a few people indicated that they thought this meant he was Chief Councilor now. Chief Councilor! Of course, it only made sense. He might not be from one of the old family lines in Arendelle, but he’d served for years and he knew what needed to be done. Not like the new king was going to know those things, the boy had only ever been a bookkeeper, even in far-off Valeureux – Fritjof knew what a comte was, thank you very much, even if the rest of Arendelle didn’t. And the queen was poorly educated, she’d spent most of her life in isolation and apparently at least some time recently in low company. She considered a _seaman_ her friend, really? He was going to have to speak with her about that later, educate her on how a queen should interact with those beneath her station.

Of course, if one of them had thought to do that earlier, this whole situation would never have come about and Arendelle would still have three councilors and the rest of the castle’s staff. He smoothed down his blue velvet robe, making a face. He was going to miss the Royal Tailor…

One of the guards came up to him, offering a slight bow, and murmured that the king and queen wished to speak with him. Fritjof indicated that he was coming and took his leave of the group of people he’d been speaking with; had he bothered to glance back as he left them, his self-confidence might have been somewhat shaken by the knowing looks they were giving each other. But he didn’t look back, and so he strode up to the foot of the dais and bowed with all the confidence of a man who is assured in his own mind that his importance is unimpeachable. “Your Majesties sent for me?” he said.

“We did,” the king told him. “Now that everyone is occupied with wine and gossip, Fritjof, I believe this would be an excellent time for you to slip away.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Fritjof agreed as placidly as he could. He was already being tasked with doing something too important to wait, how exciting! “What does Your Majesty wish me to do?”

“Pack your things,” was the king’s response. “I didn’t see the need to make a spectacle of letting you go during the ceremony, Fritjof, because unlike the other two you didn’t give me a reason to do so. I had even considered waiting until tomorrow, but then one of the servants told me you were under the impression that you were taking Tarben’s place and…well, I couldn’t in good conscience allow you to continue to embarrass yourself that way. We’d like you out of the castle by this evening, and if you need help with your things I’ll ask one of the guards to assist you.”

Fritjof just stared at him. There must be some mistake. “I’m being exiled?”

The king shook his head, giving him a momentary hope…which was just as quickly dashed. “No, you’re just being let go and turned out of the castle. Where you go and what you do after that are up to you.”

“But I’m the only remaining councilor!”

“And you’re one more than we need,” the queen told him. “The kingdom isn’t what it was in my grandfather’s day, you know – trade has fallen off considerably and so has everything else. Not to mention, there need to be a good many changes made in the way we do things, and we simply don’t believe you would be either willing or able to help us with that.”

“We’re giving you the chance to go quietly and with some dignity,” the king said in a low voice. “I’d suggest that you do so, Fritjof.”

And there it was. He could either leave now, letting everyone think he was being sent on some errand…or he could make a fuss and the guards would be called. “But you need my help! Neither of you know how to run this kingdom!”

A few gasps and a sudden cessation of conversation from those guests who were nearer the dais let him know he’d spoken a bit too loudly. The king’s only response was to sigh, taking his wife’s hand. “Your concern for the kingdom is appreciated, but actually, we do – you three are the ones who didn’t. If you decide to remain in Arendelle, you’ll soon see the truth of that.” He raised his free hand to wave over two of the guards. “Please escort the former councilor to his rooms,” he told them when they came hurrying over. “He’s to pack up his things and be out of the castle by sundown. If he needs assistance, one of you can help him.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the older of the two said, bowing. “Mr. Fritjof?”

Fritjof drew himself up, scowling. “You’ll regret this,” he spat, then turned and stomped out with the guards trailing behind him.

Adam managed to keep his smirk in until no one was looking. “Has he always been that huffy?”

John nodded, smiling himself. “Yes, but only when he wasn’t playing lackey to Tarben. I hope for his sake he’s got enough gold squirreled away to make our former cook feel like taking him in.”

“She’s staying with her cousin right now,” Per put in. “Mother says that’s not a situation likely to last, though – the cousin isn’t any too fond of her – so even if he doesn’t have much gold the woman might still be happy to see him. I suppose if she’s not he could always go with the other one.”

“No, that won’t happen,” John said. “Erling can’t stand him, he’d never agree to travel with him.” He noticed Anna shifting in her chair a bit, one hand on her stomach. “Kicking?”

“Both of them at once,” she confirmed. “If the trolls hadn’t told me it was twins, I’d have known anyway by the two sets of kicks I keep feeling.” She shook an admonishing finger at her brother. “You and your cursed castle!”

Adam chuckled. “It’s the entire kingdom, actually, and quite the opposite – apparently the curse had been holding everything back, so now we’re having an explosion of growth in every area. The farmers in the valley are all very happy about that, and it will help get us re-established in trade over the next few years.”

“I brought that agreement with me,” Kristoff told him. “I didn’t think you’d have time to come to the Rock Kingdom on this visit.”

“I wish I did,” Adam said, taking a drink from his goblet of spiced berry cider – the other guests were having wine, but the royal family was abstaining out of deference to the pregnant women in their midst. “As much as I’d love to see more of this country, though, I don’t want to miss the birth of my heir.”

“We’ll be lucky if they’re all not born the same week,” John teased him. “You’ll be back, though – and then you can bring Belle and the baby with you. I know you’re missing her.”

“Oh, I am,” Adam admitted. “But I wouldn’t have missed your coronation for the world – even if I was afraid it might end up being considerably more exciting than mine was, and not in a good way.”

That made John roll his eyes. “Adam, need I remind you, _again_ , that your coronation was held on a beach with two naked sea kings and a talking lobster?”

Adam just shook his head, smiling into his cider as he thought that he’d certainly have to be sure to mention John’s letter-opener at some point in present company now. After all, Per and Annalie had yet to hear that story…


	43. The Journey Home

The trip back to Valeureux was a bittersweet one for Adam. He’d taken leave of his sisters and brother-in-laws at Arendelle’s castle gates –  tearfully, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. His own four guards who had accompanied him were of course with him, and two guards from Arendelle’s retinue as well because John and Elsa had insisted upon it, as the wagon which had come with them was now returning with him in an even more heavily-laden state. Arendelle did have a rather robust sea-trade, in spite of her other worries, so John had sent a variety of goods with him that the people of Valeureux might decide what type of things they wished to trade for, and gifts for everyone as well. Not only from himself and Elsa, but also from some others in Arendelle who had wished to show Adam honor as the eldest son of their former king. And then of course there were the baby presents for his coming heir…well, the wagon had filled up rather quickly.

The extra guards parted ways with them once they arrived at the inn – which was now sporting a gilt-painted sign proclaiming that it was ‘The Kings Inn’, which told Adam that someone had finally remembered Kristoff after all – and after a few more days of uneventful travel they were riding into Valeureux up the road that led to the village. Adam stopped at the fountain to let the horses drink, and to let his very excited subjects know that all was well in their sister kingdom and that the Comte and Comtesse de Valeureux were now officially the King and Queen of Arendelle as well. He thought he would most certainly have to let John know when next he wrote him that there had literally been dancing in the streets at that announcement.

The gates to the castle road were opened for him, and then closed behind the wagon, and Adam rode up the winding mountain road at the head of his little procession with his mind and heart full of a strange wonder. Two years ago he’d not have been on this horse, wouldn’t have been greeted with joy by his people…wouldn’t have been expecting to return home to the same type of greeting from his wife. Two years ago no one had been able to leave the valley and return, trade had been impossible, and the lingering curse over both valley and castle had been a dark burden no one knew how to rid themselves of.

Two years ago, a determined man had come riding up this very road on a somewhat stolen horse with his terrified, wondering princess, seeking employment from a prince he knew of only through rumors, but who he knew needed his help. And two years ago, Adam would never have guessed just how much help that man would be to him or how much their friendship would come to mean to him, would never have imagined that within two short years the curse would be broken, the matter of his succession to the throne settled, and his kingdom and family prospering beyond anything he might have dreamed of.

The pealing of the village bell had followed them up, of course, and so the wagon had no sooner come clattering into the cobblestoned courtyard than people came pouring out of the castle and surrounding buildings to attend to it and take the horses. Adam swung down out of the saddle, patting Dard’s neck before handing the reins over to Mr. Fabron. “You had a good journey, Your Majesty?” the stablemaster asked him.

“A very good journey,” Adam told him. “John was threatening to try to come steal you off into his service when I left, though – his stablemaster is about one more snide remark away from being demoted to stable-cleaner, or possibly scullery maid.”

Fabron laughed. “I’ve no desire to move North, Your Majesty, but if I find a likely prospect who does I’ll be sure to let him know.”

He led Dard off, and Adam walked past the splashing fountain up the steps to where Cogsworth and Belle were waiting. He immediately swept Belle into his arms and kissed her soundly. “Next time you’ll be able to go with me,” he told her. “We were kept quite busy most of the time I was there, but when we weren’t I missed you terribly.”

“I know you did,” she said, kissing him back and then wrapping her arm around his waist. “They’re getting a hot bath for you, I knew you’d want it.”

“Oh do I,” he agreed. Cogsworth was giving the wagon a raised eyebrow, and Adam shook his head. “Some of it’s trade goods, samples of what they have to offer so we can decide what we might or might not want. The rest of it is presents, and the big cask is salted fish – luckily the castle’s new steward is a man who thinks ahead, he had the cook write out some of her recipes so that Mrs. Potts would know what to do with it.”

Cogsworth had to smile. “She’ll appreciate that, I’m sure. They’re all settled in?”

“Well settled in,” Adam assured him. “John rode in ahead of us, and by the time we caught up with him one councilor was in chains, another was dishonored and trying to decide what to do with himself, and the third was skulking around plotting petty intrigues.” He smirked. “They were all wearing velvet robes, John was _not_ happy.”

That made the steward laugh. “No, he wouldn’t have been. Is there anything I need to know before you retire to your rooms, Your Majesty? And will you come down to supper or should we bring it up to you?”

“I’ll come down, thank you,” Adam told him. “I’m not that tired. And no, the only gift that required special instructions was the fish – which I do not want to see for at least a week, please, as in Arendelle they eat it at almost every meal.”

“I’ll warn Mrs. Potts,” Cogsworth assured him. “Everything has been quiet here while you were gone. The quarterly tax came in without incident, and nothing untoward has happened in the village. I’ve really nothing to report that can’t easily wait until tomorrow.”

“Good,” Adam told him. “I’ll be happy to tell everyone all about the goings-on in Arendelle after dinner, although I’m sure the guards will be telling tales of their own in the meantime.”

“I’m sure they already are,” Cogsworth said, and bowed to him. “It’s good to have you home, Your Majesty.”

“It’s good to be home, Sir Andrew.” Adam let Belle lead him up the stairs, doing his best not to look at the door to the office that wasn’t John’s anymore, knowing he’d be missing his friend for some time to come. They could write to each other, of course, and there would doubtless be visits between the two sister-kingdoms whenever they could manage it…but it wouldn’t be the same.

Belle seemed to sense his melancholy shift in mood, and she pulled him to a stop on the stairs. “He’s your brother in all but blood, of course you’ll miss him,” she said, then stood up on tiptoe and kissed him again. “We can go for a visit next summer, once the baby is old enough to travel. I don’t suppose you brought me back any books about Arendelle to read in the meantime?”

She knew him so well. “Several, but you can’t have them until tomorrow.” Adam tucked her back under his arm and continued up the stairs. It truly was good to be home.


End file.
